Marly's Angels
by Jander Panell
Summary: Zexion is keeping a secret. Unfortunately, Marluxia and Larxene are aware of it--and use it to manipulate Zexion to serve their own ends. Marluxion, Marxene, LarxZex, AkuZeku, Xehanort/Ienzo. Gender bending, het, femslash, discipline, master/slave
1. Forcing Our Darkest Souls To Unfold

**Marly's Angels**

_Zexion is keeping a secret. Unfortunately, Marluxia and Larxene are aware of it--and use it to manipulate Zexion to serve their own ends. _

Rating: M

Pairings: Marluxion, Marxene, LarxZex, AkuZeku, Xehanort/Ienzo

Warnings: Gender bending, abuse, discipline/spanking, explicit scenes, master/slave relationships, straight!Marluxia, menages a troi, length, het, femslash, oodles of sexism. Seriously, if you're easily offended, do _not _under any circumstances read this.

Rrrgh. Okay. I debated forever about whether I should post this or not. This is easily the most puerile thing I've ever written, and is quite different from the vast majority of my works as well. I don't want to cause any kerfluffles or extremely adverse reactions, so that's why I held off posting this even though I've had it written for some time already. If it does end up causing a stir, I'll happily take it down. Still, I figured, trying won't hurt. And anyway, I'm stuck on the seventh chapter of _Through a Mirror, Darkly, _and I feel bad about leaving my wonderful reviewers waiting, so I figured I should give you something to tide you over. Even if this is sickening and disgusting and not for the weak of stomach.

This story is labeled as a chapter fic because I planned for it to be one, but I'm not as invested in this as I am in some of my other projects, so I may not continue. It depends on how I feel about it, and as always, reader reaction. The chapters I've planned to title after lyrics from songs; this chapter's song is Muse's amazing "Showbiz."

I am giving you one last chance to turn back. This shit is _not _tame in the slightest.

* * *

1. Forcing Our Darkest Souls To Unfold

_Forcing our darkest souls to unfold_

_Forcing our darkest souls to unfold_

_And pushing us into self destruction_

_And pushing us into self destruction_

* * *

Control.

If there was one thing that Marluxia absolutely _had _to have, it was that exactly. Absolute control over everything that he was capable of controlling--and even a few things he wasn't. Larxene could forgive him for that, though. After all, he'd been a prince in his past life. Prince of a minor kingdom, yes, but he'd been spoiled throughout his childhood, given everything he wanted: the best toys, luxury fabrics, rich food, tournaments held in his honor. Most spoiled children grew up to be soft and weak adults, but not Marluxia; his childhood avarice had become sharpened into something altogether more dangerous and purposeful. He grew power hungry. Lustful. And he desired so, _so _much.

Larxene knew all this even though she herself had not known Marluxia back when he had been a complete being. But he had told her everything, in soft whispers as they lay curled up next to each other in the nights, as he ran his hands down her back and left trails of shivers in their wake. He told her everything because he trusted her, absolutely.

The thought was enough to always make her smile. She knew then that Marluxia wanted no one in all the worlds more than her, and she was the only one who could really give him what he wanted, what he needed. A sense of...completion.

And control, as well.

Larxene didn't mind his control. She occasionally played at protesting, sometimes, especially when he squeezed or threw her too roughly, but it was all for show. Marluxia would never hurt her, or at least hurt her more than she could handle. And hey, a few bruises and humilation were just the price she had to pay for being his most trusted companion. His right-hand woman, basically. Ever since he'd first presented the idea of betraying the Organization to her, why, he'd made certain to include her in every single plot. She looked forward to the plotting sessions the most, when the two of them put their heads together and in hushed and excited tones detailed all the punishments they would put the most insufferable Organization members through once they were in charge. They had come up with about a thousand creative ways to bring Vexen down to size.

All of this Larxene _tried _to explain to Zexion. It wasn't her fault if the sixth member of the Organization didn't understand and kept on insisting on calling her a traitor. Well, maybe she could explain things a little better, and strictly speaking she was not supposed to talk about their plans with the Cloaked Schemer. But hey, Larxene figured she could have a little fun with that brat. Silly little brat who'd been caught sneaking. It was always fun to watch the kid's face grow pale and then red with indignity every time Larxene went on, in grisly detail, about how she and Marluxia would subdue the other Organization members once they seized control.

And best of all, the silly brat couldn't do anything about it. Zexion had come sneaking into Larxene and Marluxia's chambers for the purpose of finding some dirt with which to discredit them, but oh how the two neophytes had turned the tables on their supposed superior. Starting with that wonderfully serendipitous discovery that _they _weren't the only ones with things to hide.

"Zexion!" shouted Marluxia from the bathroom, his voice echoing through the hall. "Come! I need you!"

* * *

Because Marluxia was the Lord of Castle Oblivion, he had been given the best chambers. In fact, the entire top floor of the castle, which he had quickly refurbished more to his liking. Plain white was classy, yes, but rather boring and not fit for a prince and a lord. Now flowers snaked across the walls and many of the rooms had been converted into little pleasure gardens (where, indeed, a fair share of "pleasure" did take place). Each room had been painstakingly given its own decorative scheme--there were white-painted feathery wonderlands, sleek and square-shaped modern rooms, dark Victorian rooms furnished with heavy bookcases and velvet curtains, lushly carpeted harems, black-and-red splattered rooms decorated with skulls and bones. There was a room to match every one of Marluxia's many mercurial moods. About half of them he had yet to use, but he was in no hurry to since the entire floor was kept in immaculate condition by Dusks day in and day out.

To get from one side of the floor--which Larxene had taken to calling the "Penthouse"--to another, one had to cross a central living room which the residents informally knew as "the Lobby." It alone kept Castle Oblivion's stark white theme, though the walls were overgrown with climbing rose vines and a little waterfall tinkled to the side (once there had been fish in the pond, but Larxene had quickly killed them all). Larxene was currently curled up on a couch in the Lobby, cradling her favorite book in the crook of her arm, and humming cheerily to herself.

She wasn't dressed in the Organization coat, but that wasn't anything new; Marluxia mandated that both she and Zexion dress the way _he _wanted to see them so long as they were in the Penthouse. Larxene didn't mind. Anything for Marly, after all! This was one of the more tolerable costumes, anyhow--just a short-skirted fetish maid uniform in delicate white and pastel blue gingham, with a ruffled heart-shaped satin apron, thigh-high white stockings, and pale blue high heels. She was even wearing a matching bow in her hair. The innocent maid look, how silly. Especially considering what kind of person Larxene really was. Still, if it made Marluxia happy, she'd do it.

The door to the Lobby clicked open. Larxene yawned.

"Hurry it _up. _Marly's going to get an aneurysm if you take any longer."

"Good," Zexion said, her voice taut with ill-concealed fury. "The world will be missing nothing if that happens."

Yes, _her._

This was the most delicious secret Larxene and Marluxia had uncovered in their time in the Organization, and that was saying a lot. Neither thought they would be able to upstage their discovery that Xaldin and Lexaeus secretly ran a home-brewing business, but lo and bejoy, they _had. _It had started simply enough--Zexion had come sneaking around the Penthouse one day, apparently searching for anything with which to implicate the two of them as traitors. Marluxia and Larxene had quickly defeated the little brat, which wasn't hard. They both knew what Zexion was like, the little midget of a kid who strangely held a favored position with the Superior and didn't do much except sneak around and read big books. He reminded Larxene very much of the nerds she used to beat up in high school, only on a much more pathetic level. She had the sad feeling that he was constantly seeking to get some, but he had no idea how to begin. Just like those creepy virgin nerds back in high school, who were always whining about how real girls weren't enough like the hot elven maids they fantasized about.

Well. Larxene had thought all of that until she and Marluxia discovered that Zexion wasn't a "he" at all.

Zexion secretly being a girl--and no one but the Superior knowing--turned out to be the best thing to have happened to Marluxia recently. Not only did he now have the means with which to blackmail a potential enemy, he now...well. Prince Lumaria had kept a harem of over a hundred beautiful young girls.

Marluxia considered two good enough of a start.

Was Larxene jealous? Not at all! Zexion could never give Marluxia what _she _could, after all. There was nothing genuine behind the things that Marluxia did to Zexion--he did it mostly to assert his dominance and control over her, to prevent her from running off and tattling to the Superior. But the things he did to Larxene...they were born from something genuine. Not love, of course. But definitely more genuine than _blackmail._

Besides, it wasn't as if Larxene viewed Zexion as a threat to her femininity, anyways. For cripes' sake, the girl pretended to be a nerdy boy most of the time.

Marluxia, being very good at doing what he did, recognized that Zexion derived much of her smarmy self-confidence from her faked masculinity. So, it struck him as natural to keep her ego in check by forcibly reminding her of her true sex every opportunity he could get.

Which was why Zexion was currently dressed in a maid uniform that was the perfect analogue of Larxene's, just as tight-fitting and fetishistic, with a bodice that laced up like a corset and a skirt that barely covered her rear end. Her uniform was black, though, trimmed in red and with a red apron and sheer mesh stockings, and her badly-cut emo comb-over had been tied back with a skull hairpin. The devil to Larxene's angel. She was glaring at Larxene as if she hoped the force of her glare would burn a hole straight through Larxene's face.

"Wow, you're more bitchy than usual today, Zexy," Larxene said lazily. "What's the matter, girlfriend? You can tell me."

"Silence, neophyte," Zexion said coldly, striding forward, her heels clacking against the floor. "One of these days, you will learn not to treat a superior member of the Organization in such a cavalier fashion."

"Geez, bite my head off, will you? I was just trying to be friendly."

"I don't need your friendliness, _XII. _Where is your disgusting compatriot?"

Marluxia just then made his presence known with another, more exasperated bellow. "_Zexion! _What's taking you so long?"

"Ooh, he sounds pissed," Larxene said with savage delight. "If you don't hurry he might break out the belt on you again. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Zexy?"

Zexion didn't say anything in response to this, though she did throw Larxene a very foul glare. Larxene had been on the receiving end of many of the Schemer's glares before, even back when Zexion had just been "nerdy Dungeons and Dragons boy" to her, so she wasn't bothered at all.

Looking at Zexion now, it was hard to believe Larxene had ever mistaken her for a him. Zexion actually happened to be somewhat curvier in build than her; for a short while Marluxia had enjoyed forcing Zexion into Larxene's clothes just to delight in how tight the shirts and bodices were around her chest. At first, Larxene had to admit feeling even a little jealous--how fair was it that a crossdresser had bigger boobs than she did? It brought back unpleasant memories of high school, how the other girls would tease her for being so flat-chested and underdeveloped compared to them.

Her jealousy was silly and unfounded, of course. First of all, this was what Marluxia would call "false equivalence"--those sluts in high school went around shoving their sexuality into everyone's face, interested or not, but Zexion seemed utterly mortified by her body and in those early days had gone to great lengths to try to underplay her curves (she had been very fond of crossing her arms, Larxene remembered). And besides, Larxene should have had more faith in Marluxia. He wasn't just a T & A kind of guy. He'd always hold Larxene highest in regard, because she was his friend and comrade-in-arms and Zexion was just a slave. A toy to be used.

"_Zex-i-onnn!" _Marluxia roared again. Larxene winced. Ooh, boy. A Marluxia that angry was _never _pleasant.

"If I were you..." Larxene began in a sing-song tone.

"Go to hell, XII," Zexion snarled before storming off. Right before she disappeared through the doorway, though, she paused and _very _maturely flipped Larxene the bird.

Laughing maniacally, Larxene returned the gesture in kind.

Oh, that silly little bitch. She could spew hatred and fury upon Larxene and Marluxia all she wanted, but that never stopped her from obeying his orders anyhow.

* * *

"You're _late," _Marluxia snapped.

"Is that so?" Zexion said. "Strictly speaking, I am not. As far as I remember, you never set a strict timetable for my arrival, so therefore you can't technically say that I _am _late."

It was foolish to defy him for long, but she still derived an immature satisfaction from resisting him with the only weapon she could still cling on to--words. Even after about four months of this vexing humiliation, she could still, much to her satisfaction, talk circles around him.

Not that Marluxia ever let the talking proceed that long. As if on cue, all of the old aches and bruises, and quite a few of the new ones, chose that moment to throb uncomfortably.

"You are late because I have decided that you are late. Do you understand, dear Zexion? _Your _opinion doesn't matter. I am the lord and master of this realm, and you are nothing but my loyal subject. Everything I say, you will accept as the absolute truth."

Marluxia was lounging carelessly in a bathtub in one of the Penthouse's many bathrooms. This was one of the more luxurious ones, tiled in marble and trimmed with gold throughout. The tub was large enough to hold two Lexaeuses, so it was rather overkill for Marluxia to be bathing in it, especially since most of his body wasn't even in the frothy rose-scented water. He was lounging against the edge of the tub with his arm hanging over the side and most of his muscular torso exposed, smiling with languid self-assurance as Zexion entered the bathroom.

Oh, it _stank. _It stank like the rest of this horrible place, only much worse because the water was scented as well and Marluxia exuded an especially concentrated odor. It was all Zexion could do to keep herself from scrunching up her nose in visible disgust.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"First, you will show me the proper obeisance. Kneel."

"I can see you just fine from where I am."

"I am _aware _of that. On your knees, woman."

Zexion really didn't want to make skin contact with the marble floor--she knew from experience that it would probably be freezing to the touch. Her strategic mind was already running over the costs and benefits of obeying or disobeying. Well, she was certain Marluxia couldn't do much to her as of the moment, since he would have to go through the cumbersome motions of getting out of the bathtub if he wanted to physically force her to obey. But later...he was certain to make her pay in the nighttime, and that would be most unpleasant. Every night was already painful and humiliating enough as it was.

Not bothering to mask a frustrated sigh (just to give Marluxia the clear impression that she was not doing this willingly), she sank to her knees on the floor in front of the tub. The shock of the cold jittered her nerves violently, but she ground her back teeth together hard, determined not to let any weakness show.

"Good girl. You're finally learning your place," Marluxia said, eyeing her with some disgust.

"And why did you want me again?" Zexion snapped.

"Don't take that tone with me."

"I will take whatever tone I like, neophyte."

Marluxia's expression darkened and Zexion felt a sudden sharp stab of fear in her stomach--not fear as in the emotion, but a more visceral instinct. Prey cornered by a predator. It had felt good saying those words, of course, but that one little bubble of triumph was not worth the price.

Marluxia did not speak for the longest time. Zexion was starting to wonder if he'd forgotten she was there, especially since he wasn't even looking at her--he kept his gaze turned to the ceiling, staring at something she couldn't see. Her knees were beginning to ache from prolonged contact with the floor, and her stomach was twisting in on itself. This feeling of dreading anticipation was far too familiar, sadly--it reminded her of all the times when he had made her kneel before a punishment.

"Silly little girl," Marluxia said at length, his voice soft and dangerous; an involuntary shudder ran down Zexion's spine. "Even after I go through all this length to teach you the proper way a young woman should behave, you insist on behaving in this spiteful, childish, and frankly _idiotic _manner. I have tried to train you as best I could, given the limitations of your sex, but it seems I have not done well enough of a job."

"Y-you never will, I promise you," Zexion hissed, indignity speaking for her even while the fear grew and grew. 'I am the Cloaked Schemer, number VI in the Organization, I refuse to let you h-humiliate me like this--"

"It is the lot of every young woman to learn humility, Zexion. A faculty that has been sorely lacking in you in the past, wouldn't you agree?"

"Y-you bastard, you can't do this--the Superior will--"

"I," Marluxia said, standing up, "am your Superior here."

Even stark naked as he was and half-covered with a foam of pink bubbles--he was _frightening. _Zexion didn't want to admit it, never did. A neophyte like him would never scare her, senior member of the Organization--but that was all intellectual. Faced with him as he was now, a towering image of wrath, she couldn't help but give way to the fear bubbling in her insides. He _was _stronger than her, much as she wanted to deny it.

He held all the power in this situation. Had always held the power. That, above all, rankled her--and terrified her.

"M-Marluxia--"

"_Superior."_

Squeezing her eyes shut, swallowing her pride and something else that felt like vomit, Zexion whispered, "S-Superior."

"Good girl. You're learning." Marluxia stepped out of the tub and approached her, step by wet step ringing against the marble. Zexion stiffened her shoulders and stared as hard as she could at the floor, not wanting to see the expression on his face. His voice was gentle enough, but she was certain the rage would still be there--if not intensified--if she looked back up.

"P-please, Marl--Superior--"

"It isn't your fault, really, Zexion," Marluxia said, his tone oddly gentle. But whenever he was gentle...oh, he was a thousand times worse than when he was outrightly cruel. "I don't blame you. A young woman who's lived most of her life as a man would naturally start thinking that she is above her true station. I'm a merciful man, Zexion. You may laugh, but believe me. I merely wish to help you. To remind you of your proper place. I think we can all agree that life would be so much easier and happier for all of us if you only learned to stay in your place."

His hands, shockingly cold and wet, were touching the sides of her face. Zexion forced herself to open her eyes and meet his. He was smiling, a warm smile with a touch of humor, but it didn't extend to his eyes. They were cold, cold and lifeless as ever...

"I've been doing some thinking lately, my dear. And I believe that most of your problems come from that incurable pride of yours. I asked myself then, where does that sort of pride come from? Women are by nature sweet and humble creatures, wouldn't you agree? Such as my wonderful Larxene."

Zexion couldn't suppress her derisive snort in time. Marluxia tightened his grip, ever-so-slightly, but enough to be a warning to her.

"And what do you find so amusing about that?"

Zexion would dearly loved to point out, with the most appropriate level of snark, how Larxene was anything but "sweet" and "humble." Thankfully her fear kept her check.

"N-nothing, Lord Marluxia. I--I am sorry."

Marluxia gently pressed his lips to her forehead, in a surprisingly tender gesture. It was over as soon as it'd lasted, and all for the better. "You're very sweet when you can be, Zexion. That leads me to believe that there really is a woman in you. You see, my dear, I think that you've spent much too long pretending to be a man. It's made you haughty and rude and so very, _very _smarmy. When I thought you were a boy, do you know how often I fantasized about bringing your attitude down to size? And now that I know who you truly are, why, it's even more unacceptable. But understandable. You've been indulged your entire life, for being a boy with an above-average intellect. Well, I will have you know two things, Zexion: first of all, I really couldn't care less how intelligent you are. And second: you are a not a boy, and you have no right to behave with the pride of one."

"Lord Marluxia--"

"But of course, talking to you won't make you understand," Marluxia said with a melodramatic sigh. "Zexion, please understand me when I say I only wish to help you. Beneath that raging attitude problem I do believe I see a chance for you to be a fine representative of your sex. You're a beautiful woman, and you have your sweet and gentle moments." He had moved one hand to Zexion's waist, and delivered it an uncomfortable squeeze; Zexion gritted her teeth. "You've been suppressed, and dare I say, badly mangled, by years of maintaining your masquerade, but there is still hope for you yet. Understand that this is why I am punishing you. Even if your mind rejects my words, your body won't."

Zexion couldn't help the shudder that ran down her spine at his words. No, not his words--his _tone. _That low and dangerous murmur, less a murmur than a silky purr. It was the tone he always used when threatening her and Larxene, and she was forced to admit that it _worked._

"Zexion, you will finish what I originally called you here for--that is, get me dry and dressed--and then you will report to the Lobby, strip to your bra, panties, and stockings, and stand in the corner waiting for me to arrive like the good girl you are. Do you understand?"

Zexion made a noncommittal noise. Marluxia squeezed both her waist and her face, not painfully, but with significant pressure.

"_Do you understand?"  
_

"Y-yes, Lord Marluxia."

"Superior."

"Yes...Superior."

It was the ultimate humiliation, bowing to him and having to call _him _"superior." _No, you are not my Superior! Only _he _is-- _Illogically, she found herself wishing for Xemnas to burst in through the door that instant and save her. It was the stupidest wish in the universe and one she forced herself to suppress. _Maintain your logic. Your control. That is the only way you can get the better of him..._

_But we promised, Xehanort. Didn't we promise to always stay by each others' side? To always protect each other?  
_

Idiocy. Zexion was not Ienzo and Xemnas was...ha. Most assuredly not Xehanort.

"Good girl," Marluxia said, a quiet, self-satisfied smile on his face. He patted her gently on the head, but the gentleness of the gesture made disgust rise in her stomach. He was only ever gentle when he was planning something diabolical. "Now, kindly help me out here. It's getting very cold..."

* * *

A little white back, Lexaeus had tried to teach Zexion to meditate. He hadn't been very successful in that effort--mostly because meditation involved clearing your mind of all thoughts and slipping into a blank reverie. Zexion had soon discovered that she was not very good at doing that. How could you ask a natural-born schemer to stop thinking, anyhow? She'd quickly grew bored and frustrated with trying to keep the slightest thought from crossing her mind. Lexaeus wasn't unobservant; after that session he'd never bothered trying to teach Zexion again.

She was beginning to regret the utter lack of effort she'd put into learning to meditate. Being able to mentally slip away from this situation was becoming a more and more appealing thought with every passing second. Granted--she didn't need mental discipline to space out. She was certain Vexen possessed quite a few drugs that would have the same effect. Now, to figure out a convenient pretense for asking him for them...

It would have been so much more bearable had Marluxia ordered her to wait in a private room. Anywhere other than the uncomfortably wide open Lobby--with _Larxene _watching.

Naturally, Larxene held true to her nature and had been keeping up a stream of steady taunts ever since Zexion had entered the Lobby, reluctantly stripped of her dress, and stood with her nose to the corner. _Ignore it all, ignore it, she's just a bleating sheep..._

"O ho ho ho _ho!" _Larxene laughed like a noblewoman, throwing her head back with her hand to the side of her face. "Poor widdle Zexy! How'd you mess up this time?"

_Ignore her. That--neophyte--isn't worth listening to in the first place._

"I wonder what he's going to do you," Larxene continued, her tone infernally conversational. "I hope he lets me watch. Maybe he'll be extra nice and let me help!"

Zexion had grown very good at gritting her teeth; it certainly forestalled the urge to spit a curse at Larxene. She kept her gaze obstinately on the blank white wall, though it had to be the most boring sight in the world. Anything was better than looking at Larxene, though.

It was uncomfortably cold inside the Lobby, or perhaps her skin was merely prickling in dread. No shame, though. For some time she'd obstinately refused to strip in front of Marluxia or, worse, Larxene (why it was worse around Larxene was anyone's guess); it was already bad enough that he made her dress in fetish costumes most of the time, but exposing her body in public was pushing it too far. She was not an underwear model--she was Zexion, the Cloaked Schemer, a founding member of the Organization. To hell if she was going to indulge some idiotic neophyte's disgusting fantasies.

Needless to say that phase hadn't lasted for long.

Zexion was smart enough to understand the reasoning behind most of Marluxia's punishments, aside from the ones he gave out of pure spite. He did this to humiliate her, to forcibly put her femininity on display. Come to think of it, that was the entire point of most of what he did. Marluxia often told her that she had no reason to be ashamed of her body, since she was a beautiful woman by anyone's standards, but if anything that only intensified her shame.

There was a reason she kept her real sex a careful secret, and all this--these humiliating nights with Marluxia--were a major component of that reason.

_You have nothing to be ashamed of, Ienzo, _Xehanort had told her--no, Ienzo. Scientific precision, she had to hold on to _that _at least... _You're living proof that a woman can be at least as capable as a man._

What nonsense. If she had really been a man, would she have gotten in this situation in the first place?

Larxene unleashed another ear-bleeding cackle. "Oh ho ho ho ho _ho! _Are you afraid, Zexy? Huh? Tell me!"

Zexion replied before she could stop herself. "No. As you are well aware, XII, we by definition cannot feel emotion."

Another laugh. Zexion had to resist the urge to summon her lexicon and start pummeling away at Larxene with it. In any event, if it boiled down to a physical fight, she'd lose. She knew full well that practically everyone else in Castle Oblivion, with the possible exception of Vexen, could easily trounce her in a one-on-one fight.

"You're so silly, Zexy--oh, _hello, _Marly!"

Zexion chanced a glance out of the corner of her eyes, and had to swallow the urge to vomit. Marluxia had entered the Lobby, bringing with him his perennial and nausea-inducing stench of roses. He was wearing nothing but a fluffy white bathrobe, which was sliding off one of his shoulders and exposing plenty of his tanned and toned chest--and dangling from his right hand was a thick leather belt.

Zexion did her best to suppress the tremor that rose inside her when she saw the hated implement. _I'm not afraid. He can't do anything to me, the bastard..._

_You are so very good at lying to yourself, Ienzo, _Xehanort's voice whispered in her ear.

The last thing Zexion would ever do was admit that her hallucination of Xehanort was quite right. She clenched her hands into fists and squeezed her eyes shut, cursing her own helplessness.

"Ahh, Larxene. It's good to see you," Marluxia said. "What are you doing here?"

"I dunno. Reading? And waiting for _you."_

"You liar. You were waiting for the opportunity to help me punish Zexion, weren't you?"

"We-ell..."

"Silly girl. Don't lie about what you want. I might have to punish _you _for that..."

"Oh, come on, Marly," Larxene whined.

Zexion dared to open her eyes slightly and glance at Marluxia and Larxene. The two of them thankfully didn't seem to be paying her much attention; Marluxia was busy ruffling Larxene's hair and smiling down at her, which Larxene returned with a sickly sweet ingratiating smile of her own. Seeing the two of them interact never failed to make Zexion's stomach seize. It bothered her how readily Larxene accepted whatever Marluxia threw at her--usually XII was quite strong-willed and didn't take smack from any other Organization member, as Axel tended to discover to his daily displeasure. But with Marluxia, all the attitude melted away into a sweet submissiveness that Zexion found more disturbing than she ought to.

And a disgusting symbol of what might eventually happen to _her. _It was clear that Marluxia had broken Larxene completely, turned her into a mere puppet and slave. As he intended to do with Zexion.

That just strengthened her resolve to never end up the way Marluxia wanted.

"Dear, dear Larxene..." Marluxia sighed, bending down to kiss Larxene on the top of her head. "Well, since you're being honest now, I'll let you watch. But not help--and keep the comments to a minimum, if you must make any noise at all. Is that understood?"

"Of _course, _Marly!" Larxene said with a mad giggle. "Give me a hell of a show!"

"For you, I'd do anything, my dear," Marluxia said. It took all of Zexion's effort to keep from gagging. Not only was he being incredibly sappy, but he was being _dishonest _as well.

"Now, Zexion." Shit. It was beginning. Zexion kept her back turned to him, mostly because she didn't want to see the look on his face, and she certainly didn't want to see that awful belt. "I do believe that we have an important matter to take care of...?"

Zexion didn't grace him with a reply. Marluxia closed the distance between them, step by heavy step, until his horrid rose stench was overwhelming her senses--she dearly wanted to either sneeze or gag, but was terrified of what he'd do to her if she did _that. _She was so busy trying to keep a clear head in the fog of his stench that it took her by surprise when he rested a heavy hand on her bare shoulder.

"Turn around, Zexion," Marluxia said, his tone silky and inviting no argument.

"Marluxia--"

"_Turn around."_

Zexion hated herself for obeying, but obstinately told herself this was the logical course of action. It was best to appease him so that the punishment wouldn't hurt a badly as it might. He gazed into her eyes, his face expressionless; he had set the belt down on the nearest couch, but his lack of a weapon did not reassure Zexion in the slightest. The punishment was coming whether she wanted it or not.

"Well, it seems you've been a good girl so far," he said. "You _have _been a good girl, haven't you? You haven't left the corner? Haven't been giving Larxene any lip?"

Zexion threw a brief glance at Larxene, who responded with a smirk--but she didn't say anything. Zexion did not want to admit how her insides coiled tightly in relief at the thought. She was afraid that Larxene might want to count her earlier comment as defiance, but it appeared that even number XII had her standards.

"No, sir," she said quietly to Marluxia.

"That's good," Marluxia said. "I take it I don't have any reason to doubt you..."

"No, sir."

A slight smile flitted across his face, and he reached down and hooked his index finger through the back strap of Zexion's lacy black bra, tugging gently, though he made no move to take it off. The little gesture was enough to cause an embarrassed flush to rise in her face, though. He was teasing her, she knew it, and she hated it.

"Are you embarrassed?" Marluxia whispered into her ear. The hand on her back moved down, so that his finger was now tracing the curve of her spine. "Don't be, my dear. You have a lovely body..."

Of course saying things like that were just going to embarrass her more--which was precisely why he said them. His hand had reached the waistband of her panties, black lace to match her bra, and he was fiddling with it, snapping the elastic in and out with perverse pleasure. His other hand he'd moved to the front of Zexion's chest, where he gave her breast a gentle squeeze. Zexion's blush deepend and she tried squirming out of his grip--a useless effort, of course.

"Shh, don't protest," Marluxia said, almost soothingly. There was nothing reassuring at all about what he was physically doing, however; Zexion redoubled her squirmed protests as he slowly pulled her panties down to her knees.

"M-Marluxia--stop!"

"What's that? Protesting?" Marluxia said. "Why are you so embarrassed? This is nothing I haven't seen dozens of times before." And to emphasize his point, he slipped his hand between her legs, forcibly parting them, and squeezed. Heat flared down _there _and Zexion had to bite back a sound that was very possibly a moan.

_I am not enjoying this in the slightest, you sick bastard._

"Hmph." Larxene's grouchy voice suddenly sounded from across the room. "Are you going to punish her or _fuck _her, Marly?"

"Hush, Larxene. Are you questioning me?" Marluxia hadn't turned around, but his voice was low and taut with warning. Zexion, despite herself, felt her shudder a little in sympathy. Whenever he took that tone it meant nothing good.

"No!" Larxene whined. "I'm not! I'm just _saying_--"

"Save your comments for a time when I'll actually appreciate them," Marluxia said, though he sounded somewhat distracted--probably because he was busy trying to undo the clasps of Zexion's bra. Zexion hissed when she realized what he was attempting, and reacted purely on instinct--before she could stop herself she pushed him firmly in the chest.

It was surprise, more than the force of the push, that sent Marluxia reeling back, a rather stupid expression on his face as if he'd just been hit in the back of the head with a ball-peen hammer. It would have been amusing if the situation hadn't been so grave.

Already Zexion was beginning to regret her idiotic action. She should have just sat back and taken it quietly (_Take it like a man, _snickered a sardonic voice in the back of her head). Minimal fuss equated minimal pain--you didn't have to be a genius to see that. Barely daring to breathe, clutching her undone bra to her chest to preserve the slight tinge of modesty she had left, she stared at him, her tormenter, captor, and superior, awaiting his judgment with a sick sinking dread.

Strangely, Marluxia didn't immediately lash out in anger; rather, he was fixing her with an eerily calm and detached gaze, as if he wasn't really seeing _her. _Larxene was of course being Larxene and putting forth a racket of giggling and clapping, but Marluxia didn't seem to notice her, either. His face was perfectly blank. He could have been made of stone.

"S-Superior," Zexion said, forcing the words through her dry and constricted throat. There might still be a chance to salvage the situation... "P-please forgive me, I did not mean to--I, I, I have been--disobedient. That was not--I didn't mean--"

"Silence," Marluxia said, his voice weightless, emotionless. "That goes for you too, Larxene."

Larxene fell silent in an instant. For a brief moment, the only sound in the Lobby was the harsh rasp of Zexion's breathing, loud as thunder in her ears. In that moment she was achingly aware of a sound that ought to be there but was missing--the violent thudding of her own heart.

_A heart. As if I would want such a thing again. Ienzo's heart was her downfall._

Then Marluxia spoke, still in that horribly calm tone. "Get into position, Zexion."

"Yes, sir." In ordinary circumstances Zexion would have been as circumspect about obeying as she possibly could get away with--but, well, in ordinary circumstances she didn't try physically shoving Marluxia away from her, either. So she stepped forward without protest, staring at the floor so that she wouldn't have to look at Marluxia or Larxene.

Even those show of unusual contriteness was apparently not enough for Marluxia. "Look up. And you can let go of your bra now; you certainly don't need it anymore."

Zexion was never one to argue with logic when it presented itself, but all the same, she felt (in a visceral, not emotional, way) a strong twinge of discomfort as she uncrossed her arms from her chest and let the bra fall to the floor. It was all she could do to keep from crossing her arms over her chest again; logically she knew it shouldn't bother her since Marluxia had seen her naked countless times, but she hated being exposed because it was just another way that Marluxia held power over her. And another forceful reminder--out of too many--that she was a woman. _Weak._

Not to mention uncomfortable. Her breasts bounced heavily with every step and goosebumps had risen on her skin from the chill of the room. And the way Marluxia was smirking at her--any more indecently and he'd be _drooling. _Which actually was a rather entertaining prospect. Marluxia had more class than that, unfortunately.

"In position," he repeated needlessly, patting the arm of the couch. Zexion considered and reconsidered throwing him a glare, settled for sighing heavily, and adopted the all too familiar position: arms folded on the couch cushion, face buried in her arms, stomach pressed into the arm of the couch while she stood on her tiptoes. She hated this position more than anything because it was quite uncomfortable--after a while of sustaining it her arms and legs without fail went numb, and she felt like she was being sliced in half through the stomach.

Plus, most unappealing of all, the position forced her rear quite prominently into the air. And with her face buried in her arms she couldn't see where any of Marluxia's blows were coming from.

Larxene had started tittering again. Marluxia made noises to shush her, but then shifted towards Zexion. Oh, well, at least she could pinpoint his general location through his stench, which followed him in a noxious cloud wherever he went, and if she focused hard enough she could even detect the musty old leather scent of the belt. So the lashes weren't coming _completely _out of the blue...not that that was much comfort.

"Zexion," Marluxia said, his voice low and powerful. "Kindly tell me why you are being punished."

Zexion swallowed back the urge to throw at him some choice curses she had learned from Xigbar. _This _was the worst part of any punishment--being told to list her offenses. In her eyes she had never committed a single sin; _Marluxia _was the one in the wrong, the uppity neophyte who refused to learn his place.

Telling him this would of course amount to suicide. Zexion quite valued her existence, pitiful as it might be, so she kept her pride in check and mumbled, "I--I was mouthing off. I was forgetting my place."

"That's right. Tell me what your place is. Larxene, if you can't stay silent, you're getting it next."

Zexion bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from snickering. It was always nice, in a shit-eating way, to see Larxene get _her _due as well. And anything that got Larxene to cease her infernal giggles was a good thing in Zexion's book.

"Now, Zexion. Tell me."

"My place...my p-place is..." Zexion hissed, inwardly protesting against the sour bite of the words as they left her mouth. "Is t-to obey you. To s-serve you...faithfully...with all of my being. And that includes...being appropriately humble."

"And...?"

And _what? _She'd basically told him everything she was certain he would want to hear. No...not everything.

Corrosive self-hatred bubbling away inside her, she hissed, "And th-that is my place because I am a woman."

Something hot stung the backs of her eyes but she refused to allow it to reach fruition. _I have no emotions. I cannot be offended by anything. _Nonetheless, in that instant she felt horribly aware of--everything. Of her curves, her breasts pressed painfully against the couch, her bare crotch. Not for the first time she found herself wishing with an illogical fervor that she really _was _a man. To hell with whatever Xehanort had said to Ienzo all those years ago.

"Good girl. You're learning." Larxene punctuated Marluxia's words with a giggle; Marluxia retorted with an annoyed growl, and Larxene quickly fell silent again.

He gently placed a hand on her upturned backside and stroked her, once, twice. Zexion bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood, determined not to protest. She locked her knees stiffly to keep her legs from shaking.

Thankfully, he removed his hand soon enough, but that was of no comfort to Zexion--because what was coming next was a hundred times worse. Her every nerve felt on fire with anticipation; the cold ball of dread twisted in the pit of her stomach.

The telltale swish of leather through air. A grunt from Marluxia. A crack like a gunshot as the belt met her skin--

And then the pain. Zexion bit even harder on her tongue, reveling in the sour-bitter tang of her own blood as a distraction from the initial sting that soon bloomed into an unbearable heat. She could feel it spreading across her skin like a zebra's stripe, glowing brighter red with every passing second...

Marluxia didn't give her much time to contemplate the first lash, though, before he brought down the belt in another. And another. And another...

It was taking all of Zexion's effort to hold herself still under the endless, merciless rain of lashes. Her arms were trembling and her legs were threatening to give and she had drawn enough blood in her mouth for it to start choking her; she had to swallow it down, making nausea rise in her stomach. Only one conscious thought remained indelibly burned in her pain-fogged mind: _Do not scream. Don't you dare show him any pain, any weakness--_

It was so _hard, _though. Marluxia was showing no signs of letting up; hell, he was even increasing the speed and force of his lashes. He kept up a stinging hail all the way from Zexion's lower back to her thighs, painting her pale skin with burning stripe after stripe. At first she had tried counting them but after twenty-one her train of thought slipped completely. Much to her shame she had started whimpering and gasping, making pathetic little noises that she refused to allow to become actual screams or pleas for mercy. Her eyes were stinging painfully, her every muscle ached, she had to desperately fight the urge to kick--and still Marluxia kept up his relentless attack. The belt was falling across her thighs now, creating new bursts of pain and setting old lashes on renewed fire. She was certain some of the lashes were beginning to turn into bruises, given how much force Marluxia was putting into each blow...

Her resolve cracked when Marluxia landed his hardest lash yet in the tender spot where her thighs met her buttocks. She cried out, a dry strangled sound that turned into a yelp when the belt fell across the middle of her rear. "M-Mar--Marluxia--" she found herself choking out, without any idea how she was going to finish that sentence; she just wanted it to _stop _already--

"Superior," Marluxia growled, rewarding her impertinence with three sharp lashes in quick succession.

"S-S-_Superior! _Ahh--please--" The voice in her head was ordering her to shut up this instant before she humiliated herself further, but most of her wasn't listening to that little shred of logic anymore. It hurt it hurt it fucking _hurt_--her entire lower body felt like it was on fire--

"Do you want me to stop, Zexion?" Marluxia said, his tone deceptively detached and clinical. He punctuated his words with another, much harder, lash.

"Y-yes, yes, yes please," Zexion breathed. Tears were blurring her vision but she was determined not to shed them. Certainly most of her dignity was long gone, but at least she could cling on to _this _tiny fragment.

"O ho ho ho _ho!" _Another intolerable noblewoman laugh from Larxene. "Poor widdly Zexykins, can't handle her spanking no more, can she--"

"Larxene, kindly be quiet," Marluxia said. "What was that, Zexion? A yes?" The belt cracked half a dozen times across her upper thighs, sending stars in her vision.

"Y-y-_yes! _Please--please, stop I've learned my lesson I _swear_--"

"Spread your legs."

"Wh-what?"

It took Zexion a moment to register that Marluxia had stopped lashing her; it took another to register his order. Sick fear clenched her stomach and made her throbbing ass and legs hurt even more. "I--I--please, I'm begging you, n-no more, I've learned--I swear I--"

"You are not the judge of that. _Spread your legs."_

"So you _are _gonna fuck her." Larxene's voice was dripping with disgust. Marluxia whirled around and cracked the belt in the air in her direction.

"_Larxene! _I told you that you could watch under one condition and that is if you kept your mouth shut. If you are going to continue with this impertinence--"

"Sheesh, Marly, no need to--okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Larxene squeaked as Marluxia advanced on her. Zexion found herself dearly hoping that Marluxia was angry enough to beat Larxene on the spot--that would at least mean her own punishment would be cut short.

No such luck. Sometimes Zexion felt that the universe was in fact actively conspiring against her. Marluxia rounded back on her in an instant, cracking the belt across her buttocks and sending the numbed lashes on fire again. "Zexion, I gave you an order."

Hating herself (even moreso than she already did, at any rate), Zexion whispered, "Y-yes, sir," and hastened to obey. She spread her legs as wide as they could go without her losing her balance, burning in shame as she exposed her most private parts to him. A hiccup rose in her throat but she savagely suppressed it.

_I have given him every other victory so far. He will _not _have the satisfaction of seeing me cry!_

"Good girl," Marluxia said; a sudden drift of his horrible rose stench alerted Zexion to his sudden closeness. She squirmed a little and fought against the powerful urge to close her legs. She couldn't see him but was absolutely certain of what he was staring at.

Her worst suspicions were confirmed when he reached betwen her legs and stroked her pussy with deceptive gentleness. She gasped and stiffened and fought like a devil the sudden heat that rose in the pit of her stomach--she would _not _give him that satisfaction--would not--

"You're wet, you naughty girl," Marluxia said roughly. "Have you been _enjoying _this?"

"N-no, no, I--" Zexion whispered, mortified. Larxene had started up another storm of infernal giggles, which didn't seem to bother Marluxia so much this time since he wasn't telling her to stop. Zexion found herself furiously wishing that he would.

"Naughty girl," Marluxia repeated, tracing the edges of Zexion's pussy lips. She wriggled a bit but didn't dare cross her legs or shake his touch off. "I don't think you have learned your lesson, to be honest."

"S-Superior, _please," _she groaned. Her bottom and thighs were throbbing horribly; there was no way she could handle another belting.

"Hearing you beg is such a treat, Zexion," Marluxia said. "You have a wonderful alto, you know. Perhaps you should learn to sing?"

Funny, IX had made the same offer to her a while ago. Demyx. Thinking about him made her want to retch--he was just too innocent and naive and altogether stupid to be part of the Organization. A bit of a sore loser and whiner too, though that was his fault for always challenging her to Stratego games when it was clear that he didn't know the first thing about the rules. Demyx wasn't much fun to play against because he lost quickly; there was never a challenge. Now, Axel and Xigbar were much better Stratego players--perhaps she should ask Axel for a game after this, but lately he'd preferred playing chess even though he was much worse at that than Stratego...

Oh, dear lord. What the _hell _was she thinking about?

"Larxene, dear," Marluxia called over his shoulder, "would you be so kind as to fetch me the switch? Thank you."

Zexion felt as if she'd swallowed a gallon of freezing water. For the first time she dared to look at Marluxia, throwing a wild glance behind her just to make sure that he wasn't jesting. She got a good view of Marluxia ironically smiling, and Larxene doubled over in a fit of laughter as she hobbled her way from the room.

"Ohhh Zexykins is gonna be getting it _good," _she chirped between giggles. "Are you gonna be punishing that naughty pussy, Marly?"

"Yes," Marluxia said, his eyebrows twitching slightly, "and yours will be next if you don't hurry it up."

Larxene practically skipped from the Lobby.

"S-Superior, please, d-don't, don't, I've learned my lesson, I-I'll be a good girl from now on," Zexion babbled, staring helplessly into Marluxia's eyes. Marluxia's smile tightened and he pushed her head back down into her folded arms, not roughly, but with considerable force.

"Keep in position, my dear."

"Superior, _please," _Zexion begged. "I--I'll do whatever you want in bed tonight, just don't--don't beat me anymore, I've learned--"

"Funny how you say that every time, Zexion, yet you never actually _do _learn."

_Yes, perhaps because your punishments are not effective in the first damned place! _she thought feverishly, though it would have been suicide to say it out loud.

"Marly!" Larxene chirped, hopping back into the Lobby. "Here ya go!"

"Why, thank you. Now, Zexion." With a rustle of terrycloth Marluxia turned back to her; tears swam in Zexion's vision and nausea rose in her throat. It was happening whether she liked it or not. As ever, in the face of Marluxia's control, she was powerless.

"Keep those legs spread...good girl." He patted her once, twice, on the rear; though he was consciously being gentle, the slightest touch against Zexion's tender skin was enough to send pain screaming through her nerves. She forced it back, though, as always.

"Do you remember why you are being punished?"

Silly question, and he seemed to be channeling Axel as of the moment. _Yes, I have got it fucking memorized, _she thought bitterly. "Yes, sir," she said aloud, more contritely.

"Tell me, then."

"I--I need to learn my place. Superior."

"That's a good girl. And can you tell me what your place is?"

"T-to serve and obey you, Superior."

"Why?"

_Because you're a sick pervert who gets off on power trips. _"B-because I am a woman."

"And...?"

"And...and because...it is the lot of every young woman to learn humility."

"Excellent. You know, perhaps you really _are _as intelligent as everyone says you are."

"Gahahaha! Ooh, _burn," _was Larxene's helpful input.

Marluxia very wisely ignored her. "Zexion," he said, and his tone was more gentle than it had been all evening; Zexion, despite herself, listened to him with full attention. "I do believe that you are learning. As such, this will be your last beating for today. Am I not a merciful Superior?"

"Y-yes, sir. Thank you, sir." A little flattery could go a long way.

"I will not hold it against you if you cry or beg for me to stop," Marluxia continued. "It's perfectly natural. You've been very brave so far, but if you feel the need to break down, well...I'm not stopping you."

_Bastard. You're doing this on purpose. I refuse to give you that victory. _Out loud, she said through gritted teeth, "Yes, sir."

"Good. I'm glad we understand. Larxene, quit giggling. You're giving me a headache."

"Oh, so _sorry, _Marly," Larxene said, with another spate of giggles. Marluxia sighed heavily, and Zexion realized right then that she wasn't the only one of Marluxia's girls who was going to get punished tonight. Somehow, she found that thought comforting--hell, even amusing. And fair to boot. If Larxene was going to enjoy schadenfreude on Zexion's expense, then who was to say that the Schemer couldn't turn the tables?

All of her satisfaction was quickly dashed from her, though, when Marluxia brought the switch whistling through the air--and firmly cracked it between her legs.

Zexion stiffened and, to her shame, cried out--it'd been a while since Marluxia had last used the switch on her, and like _this, _as well. Unlike the belt, with its relative brief sting followed by a deep and slow burn, the switch was practically all sting, and it hurt like _hell, _especially against the tender flesh of her pussy. She chomped down hard on her tongue again; anything to keep from screaming.

"Mm, a little wider, Zexion. Don't start closing your legs," Marluxia said as he kept up a hail of stinging lashes. "That's good, good girl--"

Tears were beginning to well up in Zexion's eyes and she could barely breathe through the heavy lump in her throat. It wasn't that this beating was more painful than any of the others Marluxia had given her--in fact, compared to the first one, it barely hurt at all. But the humiliation..._that _she couldn't stand. He was taking care to confine his blows to her most private parts, her most _female _parts--her pussy, her inner thighs, even a blow or two to her clit. He was doing this less to hurt her than to remind her of her place.

Larxene was practically rolling around on the floor laughing, making matters all the worse. As Marluxia landed a particularly sharp lash to her inner thigh, Zexion gave in to her utter humiliation and let the tears fall. She buried her face further into her arms, not wanting either of the two awful neophytes to see--this moment of weakness was hers alone. Nonetheless she couldn't stop the sobs from shaking her slender frame nor the pathetic little whimpers from escaping her lips.

Finally, after much too long, Marluxia finished with a series of concentrated blows to her pussy, each one a little more foreceful than the last. Zexion howled aloud, screaming until her voice broke and no sound could escape her throat save dry sobs and hiccups.

Pathetic. That was all she was. Utterly pathetic, a silly little girl who'd gotten involved in matters far above her head. Cloaked Schemer nothing. She was essentially the same as Ienzo. A weakling. A weak little girl, always dependent on a man to guide her to the right path in life. And what a marvelous job Xehanort had done at _that._

She was sobbing openly now, not caring if Larxene or Marluxia saw. Her entire body was burning, not just where Marluxia had beaten her but also her muscles from holding this position for too long.

"Good girl," Marluxia murmured, running a hand through her sweat-soaked hair. Zexion shuddered under the tenderness of the gesture. It was such a marked contrast from the strength with which he'd been beating her before, and a definite contrast from Larxene's continued giggle-snorting.

"S-S-Superior, I--" Zexion choked out, though she had no idea what she was going to say.

"Shh. You don't need to say anything. Here, let me see..." Gently guiding her inner thighs apart, he parted her legs for a better look at her pussy. Zexion whimpered, mortified, and tried crossing her legs, but Marluxia forced them apart again using his knee. "Ahh...good. You're not injured too badly. Naturally you'll be stinging quite badly down there for a couple of days, but it's nothing a naughty girl like you doesn't deserve."

Another sob broke through, despite her best efforts. She hated _this _the most--how he was gentle after a beating. It was all for show, of course. Carefully calculated to bring her loyalty all the more undisputably to his side. The worst thing was that...it _worked, _in the sickest way possible. She turned to his comfort, to his low murmurs and gentle words, no matter how badly he might have beaten her beforehand. She _needed _it.

Needed it the same way that Ienzo had needed Xehanort. Silly Ienzo, heartless Xehanort. How fitting that the two of them had ended up where they were now.

That was the one thing Marluxia absolutely could not break, no matter how hard he tried. Certainly Zexion now owed a level of genuine loyalty to him, but most of her being still belonged to Xemnas. She didn't know if Marluxia was aware of this--she hoped he wasn't--but it was more than apparent to her. For Xemnas, she was willing to suffer everything. Even..._this. _

Anyone who knew about her situation could say whatever they liked. They could disparage her, look down on her for her constant weakness. She couldn't blame them for that and even agreed. But one thing no one could deny was that four months of being Marluxia's slave had put her into contact with a plethora of information she would never have found otherwise.

_"I am Zexion, number VI, the Cloaked Schemer. Master of illusions. My specialty lies in espionage and reconnaissance," _she had told Marluxia as part of the standard introduction when they had first met. If only he'd kept those words in heart.

"You've been good, Zexion," Marluxia murmured, scooping her into his arms. Zexion wearily entertained the notion of thrashing out of his grip, but the floor was rather a long way beneath her. Instead, she curled up close to his bare chest, seeking out his warmth. Hell, even his rose stench wasn't as bad as it was before. Marluxia hummed a tuneless song as he ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it over her forehead and pausing occasionally to wipe away her tears.

"Superior," she said quietly. "I--I know now. I've learned my lesson. I...am yours."

"I don't doubt it," Marluxia said, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I'm lucky and grateful for that."

"Hey!" screamed Larxene, rudely shattering the moment. "_Marly! _Quit ignoring me, will you? C'mon, that bitch doesn't need you as much as _I _do."

"Larxene," Marluxia said, his voice taut with disapproval--the same disapproval that so easily made shivers run down Zexion's spine. Now, though, the shivers were those of anticipation. Larxene did get punished but not nearly as often as Zexion did, so it was always a treat to watch her getting her due.

"Mar_ly," _Larxene whined, her hands on her hips.

"Don't 'Marly' me," Marluxia said. "Listen up. I have been very generous today, allowing you to watch Zexion's punishment. But even my patience has a limit. You've been nothing short of rude and disruptive this evening, refusing to shut up even when I specifically ordered you to remain quiet. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Marly, don't lecture me when you're carrying _her _around," Larxene said.

"I take that's the extent of your defense?" Marluxia said ironically. "Very well, then. After I finish with putting Zexion to bed, I expect to find you in the Lobby with your nose to the wall, wearing nothing but your bra, panties, and stockings. Any defiance will earn you much _further _displeasure. Is that understood?"

"Marly, you can't--"

"_Larxene!"_

As Marluxia stepped through the door out of the Lobby, Zexion peered over the crook of his elbow to throw the silently fuming Larxene a "sucks to be you" smirk. When she saw, Larxene jerked as if she'd been slapped.

"Go to hell, you _bitch!" _she screamed.

Well. Not many things in this life were worth more than that.

* * *

To anyone who managed to make it to the end: Bravo, you are a warrior.

I don't know what I was thinking while writing this. I doubt I can even get back into this mood. I do have about half a second chapter written, which delves somewhat into characterizaton and character motivations more than this one does, so who knows, maybe I'll finish it.

Let it be known that I do not agree in the slightest with any opinions expressed by Marluxia in this story. As a matter of fact, I do consider myself a feminist and am unapologetic about it. It was just an experiment to write the most douchebaggy kind of chauvinist possible. If I feel like continuing this story, Marluxia will eventually get his due and who knows? Maybe "what he deserves" (if you get my drift) from Xemnas and Vexen.

Review if you wish. Even if it's just to rail at me for writing this sickening shit.


	2. Paper Faces on Parade

**Marly's Angels**

_Zexion is keeping a secret. Unfortunately, Marluxia and Larxene are aware of it--and use it to manipulate Zexion to serve their own ends. _

Rating: M

Pairings: Marluxion, Marxene, LarxZex, AkuZeku, Xehanort/Ienzo

Warnings: Gender bending, abuse, discipline/spanking, explicit scenes, master/slave relationships, straight!Marluxia, menages a troi, length, het, femslash, oodles of sexism. Seriously, if you're easily offended, do _not _under any circumstances read this.

Wow, I can't believe there's another chapter of this! I wrote the first part months ago, but I lost steam until tonight, when I decided to beat my writer's block by dabbling in writing a line or two. Before I knew it, I'd finished the chapter.

There is next to no really offensive stuff in this chapter, as there was in the last. Unless you count Straight!Axel as offensive. Whoops, better put that in the warnings. This is mostly a character and relationship development chapter, and it's somewhat shorter than the previous.

The song is "Masquerade!" from _Phantom of the Opera._

* * *

2. Paper Faces on Parade

_Masquerade! Paper faces on parade..._

_Masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you!_

_Masquerade! Every face a different shade..._

_Masquerade! Look around--there's another mask behind you!_

* * *

The day dawned as it usually did over Castle Oblivion, gray and dreary and promising fitful rains. Not good conditions under which plants could grow, Marluxia thought somewhat morosely.

Which made his powers a good thing. He was quite certain the only reason his flowers grew at all in the dreary castle was because of his natural affinity for green growing things--his attribute as a Nobody. Anyone else who tried to raise plants in the cold gray air of Castle Oblivion would end up with nothing more than a few withered stalks--if they were lucky. Hence why Marluxia was able to maintain the top floor, the Penthouse, the way he liked it, lush with flowers, vines, and pleasure gardens. Even then, it was rather more taxing work than he was used to. The plants didn't naturally follow in his wake; he had to coax them into growing with constant soft words, touches, water, and fertilizer. It was worth it, of course, but it irritated him nonetheless.

Sometimes, sitting in the middle of his favorite pleasure garden, eyes closed, inhaling the scent of sweet flowers and the rich heavy presence of earth, he could almost forget. Forget that he was a being without a heart, living in a castle populated only by other empty shells. He was Prince Lumaria again, the suntanned and careless young man lounging in a velvet divan in one of his hundreds of gardens, surrounded by the beautiful young women who vied to dote on him the most lovingly, stroking his skin and feeding him fresh summer berries...

How he missed those days...the power he'd had. Power. He had never craved anything more, never would. He _needed _it--dominion over everything. The earth, and the plants that sprung forth from the earth. His loyal, kowtowing subjects. And his women...always women. The princes of his kingdom had historically been womanizers; his own father had maintained a harem of over fifty women from across the kingdom.

Prince Lumaria had expanded that number to one hundred, and even then he felt he could never be satisfied. He took a different combination of young beauties every day--his father had been very particular about his type, and only admitted voluptuous blondes into his harem, but Lumaria took pride in having more varied tastes and sought women of every kind. They were all young and gorgeous, of course, but he enjoyed both slim nymphs and the magnificently curvaceous women his father had. There were blondes, brunettes, redheads, women with hair in every color of the rainbow and skin tones ranging from ebony dark to pale as snow. They wore an assortment of scanty clothing that revealed of all of the lovely flawless skin he wanted to see, and always there was at least one by his side at all times.

They were _his, _his by right. He'd earned them. They were his conquests.

Now, well...how he'd fallen. He had lost them all, his lovely young conquests (none of their names he could remember, but that didn't surprise him since he hadn't known their names back then either)--and everything else. When his world had been drowned in darkness and the shadowy creatures began attacking, it had all fallen apart around him. His crown, his land, his gardens, his subjects, his women. And then his self.

Prince Lumaria was long gone, replaced by Marluxia, the Graceful Assassin. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

After all, he had power again now. It had taken some time, yes, and his power was nowhere near that which he'd once possessed--he was a lord, not a prince. But he still maintained power, and he knew he would only gain so much more. Prince Lumaria had been prince of practically--_nothing. _If the silly prince heard those words, he would no doubt be gravely offended; after all, his kingdom was only the grandest and most powerful in all the lands! But now that Marluxia was part of an organization of men and women who could travel between the worlds and drown them in darkness with the snap of a finger, he saw that all he'd owned was just a sliver of land in a single world. Barely anything.

Once he had the Organization in his control, why, every world would be his.

And hell, he even had his harem back, in a way. Well...two girls were only a fraction of one hundred, but Marluxia found he didn't mind. He almost liked this much better than the sprawling harem Lumaria had maintained; that had given him variety, yes, but it had given him anonymity as well. And detachment. The women who came and went never had distinct identities--they might as well have each been the same. Interchangeable.

But Larxene and Zexion...well, one would be foolish to mistake one of them for the other. Marluxia smiled as he sat up in his vast canopy bed in the master bedroom of the Penthouse, surveying the young women who lay flanking him, both fast asleep. Larxene lay to his right, as befitting of his right-hand woman and most trusted accomplice. She was a messy sleeper, lying on her stomach with her arms and legs spread out every which way; it was endearing, although it annoyed Marluxia when she thrashed around in her sleep and tried stealing the blankets from him. But she was his Larxene and he happily tolerated plenty from her.

Not enough to keep him from punishing her at times; the reason that Larxene was lying on her stomach, Marluxia suspected, was probably because she didn't want to aggravate the belt lashes running from her lower back to her thighs. It certainly wasn't the hardest beating he had ever given her, just a reminder for her to stop being so impertinent. Marluxia could handle a certain amount of impertinence from her, though; it was part of what made Larxene Larxene and he wouldn't have her any other way.

Her title certainly fit her well, Marluxia thought as he ran a hand through her blonde locks. In build, she was one of the slender nymphs who Prince Lumaria had so enjoyed. He had the feeling that she was somewhat insecure about her flat-chested, narrow-hipped, and frankly childish build, but Marluxia had to say he enjoyed it. How small and delicate she was, yet how at the same time she was one of the most mature people he knew--especially in bed. Oh, Larxene could be a very dirty little girl indeed in bed. He liked the combination of fiery personality and underdeveloped body; it was a nicely shocking juxtaposition.

Strange, how Marluxia could come to like a girl for her personality. Prince Lumaria hadn't known a single thing about the characters of most of his harem girls, and he didn't care; they were just there to pleasure him, no questions asked. But with Larxene...Marluxia couldn't help but develop a deeper, more intimate relationship with her. Much of that was born from their constant close proximity; when he had only one girl to lavish his attention on, instead of a hundred, naturally he would _have _to get to know her. And another part of that came from sheer compatibility.

He patted Larxene's forehead one last time, smiling as her delicate features twisted into a perturbed little frown. Then he turned to his left, where Zexion lay curled up on her side.

Ah. Zexion. He could say with most certainty and assurance that he didn't have a fraction of what he had with Larxene with her. Nor would he want to. Larxene was his first and best, always would be--Zexion he kept around mostly out of convenience. As well as to keep her from reporting his and Larxene's plots to the Superior. He would have done the same had she actually been a boy; keep your friends close and your enemies closer, they say. The last thing he needed was for a little sneak to be up and about Castle Oblivion. Keeping her by his side controlled her.

Yes, he would have done all that if Zexion was a boy--but he would never have been able to go as far as he did now. A male Zexion he would retain as a bookkeeper and a servant, which would suitably humiliate the haughty brat, but discovering that Zexion was a girl opened up hundreds of new possibilities for him. Now, he didn't just have to humiliate her--he could _break _her.

She slept much more peacefully than Larxene did, with her knees drawn up to her chest and her face resting in the crook of her arm. Half her face was covered by that awful comb-over, but it didn't matter because he could perfectly picture her sharp and elegant features in his mind's eye. Even as a boy he'd thought she was more attractive than average, in a cold and unapproachable way, not like Larxene's chidish delicacy. It was a sort of attractiveness that Marluxia liked to see break, because it was only a veneer. And he'd broken it quite well earlier that night, though granted he had beaten Zexion much harder than that before. He wasn't one to overdo a punishment; he had seen to it that Zexion learn humility, nothing more and nothing less.

When he'd first discovered her gender, he was shocked not just because the supposedly asexual little boy Zexion was a girl, but because she was quite the _feminine _girl as well. If you counted femininity as curves, of course. She went through a good deal of effort to hide her body every day, which Marluxia thought a bit of a shame since it was a lovely body. There was no hiding _here, _of course. He smiled as he surveyed her; even curled up in her sleep as she was, he could still perfectly see the round curves of her breasts and the jut of her hips. She definitely wasn't the most voluptuous woman he'd ever known, but unlike Larxene was the sort of girl who could actually appear on the cover of a swimsuit magazine.

A pity how much she hated and feared her femininity. He would be the one to constantly, and forcibly, remind her of it.

Life was good, Marluxia thought as he gazed at the ceiling of the bedroom, which was covered with a network of spreading vines which bore a different sort of fruit or flower every day. This morning, bundles of round fat green grapes were dangling from the vines, swaying gently in a night breeze that only traveled through the Penthouse. He had power. He had his own chambers, his own dominion. He had his plants.

And he had two beautiful women by his side, to serve his every need and desire.

It couldn't get much better than this. Well, actually it could--but that was why he was plotting to overthrow Xemnas in the first place.

Smiling in satisfaction, Marluxia lay back down on the feather-light pillow, his arms folded beneath his head. Today would be a new day. A good day.

* * *

Zexion didn't know whether to be annoyed or relieved when she awoke and saw that no one was on the bed beside her, though the sheets were marvelously rumpled. Annoyed, because it meant that she'd been sleeping for too long if the other two were awake before her. But relieved, because it meant that she could have some alone time this morning, at least for a little bit.

Nice as it would be to just lay in bed all day, she had things to do. The other members all knew that she spent the nights in the Penthouse, which was the source of endless ribbing from them (especially that horrid Axel...), but it would look suspicious if she spent all day there. And besides, did she really want to spend that much time in Marluxia's lair?

Much to her relief, she saw as she maneuvered off the bed (somewhat awkwardly, to avoid aggravating the weals and bruises from last night's punishment) that someone had folded up an Organization uniform on the chair beside the bed. She forced down a tiny sob as she seized the smooth leather and unfolded the coat--it was just such a relief to have the coat back again. To be able to wear something that actually covered her body, something befitting of her status as the Cloaked Schemer, not Marluxia's pet.

In addition to the uniform,, Marluxia had left a length of linen bandages and a towel to disguise her figure. For a while, every morning she would have to hunt for supplies, but eventually Marluxia caught on and started folding the materials she needed along with her uniform. It was one of the few things he'd done that she was genuinely grateful for.

She slid into the pants first, hissing as the material made contact with her sore skin. Nonetheless, she had to admit some level of relief at being able to wear pants again, especially after spending all evening in that horrible maid uniform. It was pathetic, of course, and she knew Marluxia was just manipulating her. Giving her back a tiny portion of her mask, her strength, her masculinity. Giving it to her so she was forced to be grateful to him.

_You wish, _she thought vehemently as she wrapped the towel around her waist, to deemphasize her hourglass figure. She could never flatten out her figure quite enough and as such received plenty of taunts to the effect of being awfully curvy for a boy, but at least there was Axel walking around with his childbearing hips, so she had a bit of plausible deniability.

The bandages were next. This was always the part she both anticipated and dreaded the most. Anticipated, because in her eyes it was the most important part of the masquerade--with her chest bound and under control, she wasn't nearly as conscious of her weakness, her femininity, as she was when she spent every night in the Penthouse baring her body for Marluxia's pleasure. But dreaded because it was fucking _painful. _It was times like these that she wished she had Larxene's small breasts--she could probably get away with only one layer of bandaging, or hell, even a tight sports bra, to flatten her chest effectively. Binding her own heavy breasts was always more of a struggle, and used up quite an annoying amount of bandaging. It was times like these that she was grateful for the looseness of the Organization coat, because there was no way she could get her chest as washboard flat as an actual man's. Not as long as she valued her ability to breathe, anyhow.

She winced as she wound the last layer of bandaging, pulling it tight as she could without cracking her ribs or asphyxiating herself. Already, the tightness was growing uncomfortable and her breathing was coming in much shorter gasps. Most of the others were of the opinion that Zexion was asthmatic and that was why "he" was so pathetically bad at physical activity, but Zexion was certain that if she didn't have to bind her chest she would at least be able to match, say, Vexen or Demyx.

The coat went on, and then the boots and gloves. Fully dressed now, as the proper Organization member she truly was, she strode across the room towards one of the full-length mirrors lining the wall (that damnable narcissist Marluxia, having so many mirrors...). A solemn boy with a mop of messy hair gazed back at her. His hips jutted out a little bit more than was normal for a boy, but his chest was perfectly flat and his sharp features were suitably androgynous.

Zexion sighed deeply in relief, running a hand through her hair in a pitiful attempt to straighten it. It was good. The masquerade would hold, as it always had.

A portal opened behind her. Zexion, to her shame, gasped aloud and staggered on the spot, almost falling against the mirror. Thankfully, she caught her balance and regained her composure just as Marluxia came striding out of the dark corridor.

"Good morning, Zexion," he said. "I see you're all suited up..."

Zexion would have dearly liked to spit in his face and snarl that no, she wasn't going to play by his silly games during the daytime, but instead arranged her face in a flatly neutral expression and said, "Yes, sir."

"Good girl. Or should I say, good _boy...? _Anyhow, remember to report back here in the night."

"I never forget, sir."

"Of course," Marluxia said with an ironic chuckle. He walked closer, closing the distance between the two of them; panic welled in Zexion's stomach. What did he _want _with her? He couldn't possibly do anything this early in the morning, it would be a horrible hassle to rearrange her bandages--

"It always astounds me, you know, Zexion," he said, placing a hand under her chin and forcing her face up so they were eye-to-eye. His expression was, per usual, unreadable. "To think that such a lovely girl is hiding in the body of this anemic little boy."

"M-Mar--Superior," Zexion said, barely daring to breathe.

Marluxia laughed again, without any humor. Thankfully, he released her face and strode away from her, rubbing his chin as if deep in thought. "It's strange, isn't it, Zexion? You really do make a good effort at hiding your true sex. If we hadn't fought that day, I would never have found out. Even looking at you now, I find it hard to believe that there really is a beautiful girl beneath that coat."

Zexion wondered what the point of this line of inquiry was. He'd never really talked about the masquerade with her before, and most of her thought he didn't want to. What Marluxia wanted was a woman who could be humiliated and manipulated; he would prefer pretending that she didn't even disguise herself as a boy in the first place.

"This masquerade is where your confidence comes from, of course," Marluxia went on. "It's a dangerous thing, Zexion. You've tasted the power and freedom that comes from being a man and that is all you want now. That's why I discipline you so strictly, Zexion--it's so you learn your place. As a _woman."_

Zexion spoke before she could stop herself; mumbling to the ground, she said, "I--I believe that a woman can be just as capable as a man."

She expected him to be angry, to smack her or worse, but all Marluxia did was snicker. "So says the crossdresser."

Zexion flushed furiously, knowing that he had a point. Not that she would ever admit it in the first place. Once again Xehanort's words whispered in her ears; once again she resolutely blocked them out.

All lies. Everything Xehanort had said was a lie. Or, if not a lie, a broken promise.

"Go on ahead, Zexion. I'm not stopping you," Marluxia said, snapping her out of her reverie. "Do your job well. And in the evening, well...you know where I expect you."

"Yes, sir," Zexion said. Then, spurred on by the memory of last night's punishment, she added, "I--I'll be good, Superior. You won't have to punish me tonight."

"Oh, Zexion," sighed Marluxia, his voice laden with affection--an entirely _false _affection. "I know you will. Your inner nature is very sweet; all we have to do is strip away the masquerade completely, don't we?"

"Yes, sir," Zexion mumbled, dipping her head in the suggestion of a bow.

"Well, I'll leave you to your business," Marluxia said. "You can go now."

"Thank you, sir," Zexion said, and found that she actually meant it. Any excuse to get out of Marluxia's sight was a good one in her book.

She opened a portal in front of her and stepped through it rather too quickly.

* * *

Since he was the Lord of Castle Oblivion, Marluxia made it his business to make daily sweeps of the castle's white halls, just to see if everything was running smoothly. Not that a castle staffed with six people of such wildly differing personalities could ever "run smoothly" in the first place, but at the very least he made sure it was running as efficiently as it could. Which meant that a day went by without anyone killing or seriously injuring another.

Usually his sweeps didn't get him through the whole castle because someone would inevitably stop him midway and force him to spend the rest of the day working on fixing some horibly pressing problem with them. Some days it was Vexen, whining about how the septic system was broken or how the lights in his lab were flickering on and off, so Marluxia would have to spend all day playing Joe the Plumber and/or Electrician. Other days it was Axel, setting the castle gardens on fire getting into fights with Larxene. Just last week Marluxia had, in a fit of vengeance, strung Axel upside down from the highest tower in the castle and left him there all day. Unfortunately, that day number XIII and number IX had paid a visit to the castle, and they begged and whined and wheedled all day long until Marluxia grew sick of them and took Axel down just to shut them up.

In a way, being Lord of Castle Oblivion was less like being a ruler and more like being father to a bunch of bratty children.

He heard voices as he passed by a half-ajar door in the hallway. Frowning (and hoping it wasn't Larxene and Axel getting into a fight again), he peered through the doorway--and saw Axel and Zexion. Well. Those two he didn't see together often--Zexion seemed to prefer the company of the other senior members, which was understandable. In fact, Marluxia had been of the opinion that Zexion and Axel had some bad blood between them, but that assumption was being put to the test right now because Zexion and Axel were behaving friendlily enough. They sat opposite each other at a square white table, and were intently playing a game of chess.

"Check," Zexion said as she moved her piece.

"Awww, dammit," Axel groaned, clutching his hair as he swept his eyes over the board. "Dammit, dammit, _dammit. _I'm not going to lose this time, got it memorized?"

"Say what you like," Zexion said. "You've only got two pieces left."

"Well, I'm still not going to lose!"

"Make your move already."

"Shut up! This isn't speed chess, got it memorized?"

"Speed chess. You know, it's been a while since I last played some good speed chess...would you feel up to timing our next game?"

"In your dreams!"

"It's your fault, you know," Zexion said calmly. "You insist on playing chess when you're horrible at all. If you want a slightly fairer game, why not play Stratego?"

"Like hell. The reason I stopped playing Stratego with you in the first place is because you always win," Axel grumbled.

"And you always lose even worse when you play chess."

"Why not do battleship next, then?" Axel suggested, hopefully. "Or maybe poker?"

"I play strategy games, Axel, not games of chance. Ask Luxord if you want to play poker."

"Ohh, _I _see how it is, you're not man enough to face me--"

"I'm playing my strengths, Axel. I have terrible luck but I do believe, if I do say so myself, that I am an excellent strategian. You ought to play by your own strengths as well. Would you like to make your move already?"

"Aww, dammit," Axel groaned.

Marluxia watched with a little interest and even amusement. He realized that he didn't get to see much of Zexion interacting with other Organization members, aside from him and Larxene, of course. He knew that Zexion liked hanging around Lexaeus and Vexen, and that Xemnas considered her one of his second-in-commands, along with Saix (in fact, he had the feeling that Xemnas had sent Zexion to Castle Oblivion precisely so she could keep an eye on Marluxia--wonderful how _that'd _turned out), but otherwise had no idea how she behaved around others, especially the neophytes. He had heard about one particular incident before he'd joined the Organization, in which it seemed an irritated Zexion had locked Demyx into the cellar of The Castle That Never Was for a week. Marluxia was of the personal opinion that that week so happened to coincide with her time of month.

Aside from locking neophytes into cellars, though, Marluxia hadn't seen much of Zexion's interactions with her fellows (and supposed "underlings")--the real Zexion, essentially. Now, it seemed, he was getting to see Zexion outside of the twin roles she was forced to play--Xemnas' lapdog, and Marluxia's slave.

"Make your _move, _VIII. I'm getting impatient."

"Okay, okay! Here!" Axel moved his remaining pawn, randomly.

"Checkmate," Zexion said, sounding almost bored. She flicked Axel's king with her index finger and thumb, and it toppled over and lay on the board looking quite forlorn.

"Damn, damn, damn," Axel grumbled, sweeping his eyes over the board. "_Shit! _Not again!"

"Would you like another game, Axel?" Zexion said, beginning to set up the board.

"Hell no!" Axel yelled, leaping to his feet as if his seat had suddenly caught on fire. Zexion snickered aloud--and then turned to face the door.

"You know, XI," she said, a haughty smirk dancing at the corners of her lips, "instead of skulking around trying to spy on us, you can join us if you'd like."

"Huh? What? _Marluxia?" _Axel said. "Wait, he's spying on us?"

"I could detect his scent anywhere," Zexion said dryly.

"What a fucking creep!" Axel cried.

"Now, now, Axel," Marluxia said, deciding now was the time for a dramatic entrance, "is that any way to speak of your Superior?"

Much to his satisfaction, when he spoke in that tone, low and silky and filled with dangerous intent, he saw Zexion shiver slightly and turn a few shades paler than her already unhealthy anemic coloring. Good. She was still afraid of him. As she ought to be.

He would punish her for her impertinence later that night, that much was certain.

Too bad he couldn't say the same for Axel. "Tch, you aren't my superior," Axel growled, leaning against the chess table and glaring defiantly at Marluxia.

"Would you like to repeat that incident from last week, Axel?" Marluxia said.

"You wouldn't have the cojones to do it again," Axel said, a smirk slicing his face in two. "Seeing as you stopped the instant _Demyx _told you to stop. How pathetic are you?"

"Axel, don't--" Zexion began, but then her expression changed, became darker and unreadable. Marluxia frowned. He had only seen that expression on her face once, on one of his earliest missions with her (back when he'd thought she was a boy), when she had torn apart a mob of Heartless with magic because they had defiled a library. For a breathless second he could believe that she really was the Cloaked Schemer, as dangerous and mysterious as her reputation.

The expression vanished, to be replaced by a smirk as deranged as Axel's. "Don't be so hard on the neophyte, now, Axel. He tries his best."

"Ha, ya think? That's right." Axel winked at Marluxia, fanning the flames of the fury that had begun gathering in the pit of Marluxia's stomach. "What a weakling. I wonder what kind of pathetic world he comes from? You understand, don't you, Zexion? We from Radiant Garden are just...different."

"Yes." Zexion flushed slightly pink from pleasure, which only wound Marluxia's irritation to a higher pitch. "We are...different. Better."

_Damn you, you little bitch, _Marluxia thought. _Just wait until Axel's not around and we'll see how mouthy you are then._

He didn't say any of this aloud. If the two of them wanted to play this inane game, he'd indulge them. Later, he would get back at them--both of them--so much more sweetly. Smiling at the two of them, he said, "Think that if you must, but there must be a reason that the Superior placed me in charge of Castle Oblivion."

"He just wanted to get you out of his face 'cause you annoy the snot out of him, I bet," Axel said.

"Who knows or understands the Superior's reasons?" Zexion said. "What he says, we must follow. All of us. You are bound as much as we are, Marluxia."

_Say that as much as you want, bitch. He's never come for you, has he?_

_That's the way you are. Always hiding behind a man. If not the Superior, then Axel. But I will show you. I will take both of them from you and you will have no one but me. Your _true _Superior._

Marluxia put on his pleasant a face as possible, though he never seized boring into Zexion's skull with the force of his glare. She was avoiding meeting his eyes. Perhaps, unlike Axel, aware that there would be consequences for such defiance and grave ones to boot. But she had joined in, anyhow, pushed forward by the moment. Silly creature.

"I believe that everything would run so much more smoothly in this castle if we could all behave more respectfully to one another, don't you agree? Axel, Zexion?"

Something seemed to snap inside Zexion as Marluxia spoke. A shudder convulsed down her spine and then, a snarl twisting her face, she dove towards Marluxia, much faster than he thought she could move. Her fingers, icy and startlingly strong, closed around his throat and he felt himself stumbling, gasping, unable to force down breath.

"Yeah! Go! Kick his ass, Zexion!" Axel enthused. "You're nothing, got it fucking memorized, Marly?"

Zexion had only managed to overcome Marluxia by the element of surprise, though. Roaring in rage, he swung a fist and caught her in the stomach. She flew backwards, gasping, and slammed against the table, upsetting the chess board and the pieces, which rolled to the floor with a series of clatters. She slumped against the table, winded, breathing hard, but never removing her glare from Marluxia's face.

Yet beneath her burning eyes there was something else...a flicker of fear. Marluxia smirked, satisfied. Oh, how she would pay for this tonight.

"My dear Zexion," he said. "How long, I wonder, can this masquerade last? You are nothing without your illusions."

He turned around and departed, not sparing another look on his two defiant subjects. They would pay, he was sure of that. Zexion especially. Tonight, she would suffer for her sins.

* * *

"I hate him," Zexion hissed when Marluxia left, driving her fist into the floor. It hurt, but she'd never admit it. "I hate him I hate him I fucking _hate _him--I want to kill him, I want to--"

"Zexion, hey, c'mon, Zexion, calm down," Axel said, kneeling by her side. He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder--tentative, because he knew how much she liked being touched. Which wasn't much. Sure enough, by pure reflex alone, she knocked his hand away.

She didn't want to but it happened--during all her years masquerading as a man, she had learned to reject even the slightest touch. Every touch, every contact, might come closer to revealing her secret. As she had learned that disastrous night when Marluxia and Larxene had first enslaved her.

But Axel's hand was so...warm. And his face was so close, too. He was kneeling in front of her, a perturbed frown creasing his brow, and it struck her in that instant how beautiful he was. Surely she was deluded; she had banged her head against the edge of the table. Or maybe not. Axel, with his narrow face and foxy features, wasn't handsome in the classical sense, but there was such life and vibrancy dancing in his green eyes that it made something deep inside her, something horrible, hurt like an unhealed bruise. He was much too alive to be a Nobody.

"You okay?" Axel said.

"Of course I'm not okay," Zexion seethed. "I'm going to find Marluxia, and I'm going to kill him in his sleep."

"Not if I don't get him first," Axel said. "C'mon, buddy, can you stand?"

"Yes," Zexion said. "Don't touch me."

"Ahh, no good deed goes unpunished," Axel said, shrugging.

"What, you _want _to touch me?" Zexion said, lurching to her feet. She had to cling to the edge of the table for support, but obstinately told herself that this pain was nothing compared to the pain she'd been in when the night was done. The only thing she was assured of was that her virginity would remain intact, but that was of no comfort. Marluxia had a thousand other, more creative, ways to torture.

"Kind of," Axel said. "Not like _that, _though. I don't like guys."

"What, really?" Zexion said, a strange feeling rising inside her chest. She had no idea what it was. "What about you and XIII? You can't deny that the two of you don't seem very...well..."

"Are you kidding?" Axel laughed. "Hell, does it really come across that way? I mean, Xiggy's going around saying that we're the cutest couple in the Organization...he's one to talk, him and Demyx and all..."

"I really thought you had something between you," Zexion said.

She recognized the emotion now--_hope. _Only, it wasn't an emotion, because of course she couldn't feel emotion. Even a weak, hormonal female like her. Her lack of heart trumped everything else. Hope...why? Because she thought she had a chance with Axel now? What utter nonsense. Axel didn't know she was a girl and there was no way she was going to risk revealing it to him. And why did she want Axel? Incorrigible number VIII? If she wanted a man to protect her she ought to pick someone better, someone stronger, like Lexaeus...

"Nope," Axel said. "Believe it or not, two guys _can _be really close friends without, y'know, wanting to fuck each other."

Zexion winced. Axel was as crude as ever.

"I can believe that," she said. "It's strange, though. You don't seem to show much interest in girls."

They were walking away from the room, heading nowhere in particular. There was nowhere they wanted to go inside the putrid white walls of Castle Oblivion, and both knew that. Axel sighed. "Like there're any girls around to show interest in."

"There's XII."

"Hahahaha, yeah. _That _harridan? That'll be the day," Axel said. "Plus, she's barely got any boobs at all."

Zexion suppressed another leap of giddy hope. What the hell was wrong with her? Marluxia must have banged her head around badly when he'd thrown her against the table. Trying to feign casual indifference, she said, "Hmm, so you like women with...assets."

Axel guffawed and, much to Zexion's indignation (yet pleasant surprise at the same time--damn this...this _concussion!_), patted her on the head. "You're really cute, Zexion. I mean, not like that. But y'know, if I had a little brother, I wouldn't mind if he was anything like you."

Zexion turned away so Axel wouldn't have to see her blush. _Little brother... _Imagine that.

"Yeah, I like boobs, all right," Axel said. "Curves in general. You don't see much of that these days, though. All these blonde toothpicks running around. Even porn stars look like that."

If Zexion had been eating something she'd have choked. "P-porn, really...'

"What's a guy to do? When you're surounding by gay guys and Larxene, how _do _you get off?" Axel said, gesturing dramatically at the air. And flamboyantly, too. No wonder she had thought he was gay.

"I'm not gay," she said without thinking.

"Really?" Axel blinked owlishly at her. "Then what _is _your type, Zex? 'Cause, no offense, you sure come across as completely asexual to me. Maybe a little gay. Again, no offfense, got it memorized?"

Zexion flushed scarlet, hating herself for blushing like a schoolgirl yet unable to stop herself. What _was _her type...? She really hadn't thought about that. Mostly, she had been concerned with just surviving. Xehanort...but Xehanort was a liar and dead anyhow. Marluxia...Marluxia, ha. She hated him more than anything. Lexaeus...no, Lexaeus was kind but she could never view him that way. Vexen...Vexen had practically raised her (or rather, Even had practically raised Ienzo).

Axel...

Not Axel. What had he ever done for her? It was too dangerous, anyway. Marluxia hated the both of them. If he found out about anything between them, he would make them both suffer and then... And anyway, Axel thought she was a boy, and she'd rather things stayed that way.

"I don't really know," she mumbled.

"It's okay," Axel said, with another pat to her head. "Y'see, Zex, there's this marvelous thing called puberty..."

_Yes, I know what puberty is. It's running screaming to Xehanort when you're eight years old and bleeding from between your legs and you think you're dying._

"I'm sure you'll find your dream girl in no time! Well, I've been looking for years," Axel said, more morosely, "and I haven't found any girl who fits the bill. I don't like stick-thin blonde bimbos. If anything, I think I'd like a girl who I could play Stratego and chess with. And has boobs, that'd be nice too."

Zexion was suddenly stricken with a horrid urge to pull down her zipper and tear open her bandages. Her sense of self-control, and self-preservation, managed to keep her in check, but she felt horribly embarrassed about it. What the hell was she thinking? _Axel? _Impossible. Utterly impossible.

But it wouldn't hurt to form some kind of alliance with him, would it...? She couldn't trust Vexen and Lexaeus to resist Marluxia in any tangible way. Vexen might take to her cause, but he would only make things worse with his incoherent shriekings which Marluxia simply plugged out, anyway. The other Organization members visited too infrequently to be of any use. Axel was all that was left. He was around her age, reasonably intelligent, hated Marluxia but could state his discontent in more forward ways than whining Vexen could, and as a plus she and him already had a bit of a working relationship, what with all the games they played together. If they could turn it into something more...

Maybe she could do more than survive Marluxia. Maybe she could even defeat him.

_Silly, lovestruck little girl, _a voice whispered in her head--it took her a second to identify it as Xehanort's. With a pang she remembered Ienzo offering a similar proposal to Xehanort, all in the hopes that it would lead to romance. It did. Ienzo's biggest mistake.

"You'll find yours if you look hard enough. If you look hard enough for anything, you'll find it. Least, that's what I think," Axel said, shrugging archly. "Say, Zexion...I know you hang out with Marly during the nights. But I'm wondering why; I mean, you seem to hate him as much as I do."

"Not just 'seem to,'" Zexion said. "I _do."_

"Geez, then why do you seek his company?"

"I don't do it deliberately," Zexion said without thinking. "He forces me to."

"What? Why would he do that?" Axel said, goggling at her. "I mean, he didn't sound like he liked you much, earlier today, and I really don't think you two would have anything in common."

"We discuss..." Zexion flailed at empty air for a suitable lie. "Literature. He likes classics. So he makes me discuss them with him."

"Ohh, that's dreary." Axel whistled. "And he does this every night?"

"Unfortunately. That harridan of his," Zexion added, struck by sudden inspiration, "always joins us and all she does is complain all evening."

"Wow, it must suck to be you," Axel said, not without sympathy.

_You have no idea._

"Hey!" Axel said, snapping his fingers, like he did whenever he was struck by inspiration. "I've got an idea!"

"Hmm?" Zexion surveyed him through half-closed eyes. Usually Axel's ideas led him into deep trouble, such as that _brilliant _plan for burning down all of Marluxia's gardens. Whenever he sounded so excited by a plan, it was sure to be awful.

Sure enough, Axel did not disappoint. "How 'bout I come with you this night, got it memorized? Then you'll have at least someone else to stick it out with you. Hell, I could even make up books to distract the pink fruit, how's that sound?"

Zexion choked, not just from Axel's new epithet for Marluxia (which was brilliant; she wondered why she'd never thought of it), but from, well...the idea of him finding out. That she was Marluxia's sex slave. If she ever wanted to reveal her secret to him, she planned on doing it in a much more dignified way.

Reveal her secret? No, never. That was nonsense. She couldn't seriously be considering telling him? Why? Because his supposed ideal girl vaguely meshed with her own description? That was a weak reason for anything. There was no guarantee that Axel would...well, reciprocate. What was there to reciprocate, anyway? She had long given everything to Xehanort and he had never given it back. She had nothing left to give Axel. If anything, if she really..._cared_...about him, she would try to keep him as far from her as possible. As far from Marluxia.

But Axel enjoyed trouble too much to avoid teasing Marluxia for long. Zexion sighed and ran a hand through her hair, sick of predicaments.

"No, I don't think that would be wise," she said, in as careful and measured a tone as she could manage.

"What? C'mon, you want some moral support, don't you? And I've been hankering for an excuse to stick it to Marly's face for an extended period of time."

"No! You can't! You absolutely cannot come!" Zexion shouted, backing away from Axel so there was a good distance between them. Staying any longer next to him would only muddle up her thinking more. Would only endanger the two of them more. "Do you hear me? Do you understand? Do you _have it fucking memorized?"_

She was being hysterical and she didn't much care. Axel could not find out. He must not. He must never know the truth, because if he did...if he did...she didn't even want to think about what would happen then.

"Zexion! Whoa, calm down, kiddo," Axel said, holding up his hands. "All right, all right, I won't come. I have got it fucking memorized. All right?"

"Good. Now leave me alone if you know what's good for you, _neophyte," _Zexion snarled, and turned around and opened a portal. She stepped through it, feeling the comfortable cold snatch of the darkness, before it closed behind her, preventing Axel from following.

The portal led straight to Marluxia's room. There was no harm in reporting earlier tonight--perhaps he might even lessen her punishment if he saw how eager for it she was.

Eager, not really. But if it would protect Axel, it was fine by her.

* * *

"Sheesh, what's with that kid? Just when I think I'm starting to get him..." Axel said with a sigh, rubbing his head and staring after where Zexion had vanished. He wished he had Zexion's sense of smell; then he could find the brat anywhere in the castle.

What a weird kid, that Zexion. He was a good kid, Axel knew that much, and devilishly smart, but Axel had long thought of him as unemotional aside from the occasional smirk and smarmy comment when they were playing strategy games. He had never seen Zexion raise his voice to anyone before because Zexion didn't need to--when he spoke, everyone listened. Maybe it was because he was so young yet his voice held such a silky, commanding quality.

But today Zexion had shouted. He'd sworn at Axel and his expression had been--wild. Terrified. Axel had seen that expression many times before, when he (or rather, Lea) and Isa had gone hunting in the woods around Radiant Garden. The fear of prey that knew it was going to get caught, no matter how hard it struggled.

Something was going on here, something much deeper than Zexion being forced to attend Marluxia's literary discussions. Something...dark and dangerous. Something that was hurting Zexion, _really _hurting him, in the deep and primal place where it mattered.

Axel knew what his response would be. He wasn't about to throw the kid to the wolves, especially not after Zexion had, for the first time ever, opened up to him today. One way or the other, he'd get to the bottom of this. He'd find out just what was going on with Zexion and Marluxia.

* * *

Awww, we gots a romance in the works! Maybe this is finally my chance to write a healthy AkuZeku! Of course, it's bizarre AU gender-bent straight AkuZeku, but still.

Again, I plug my 100+ chapter epic, **Broken Memory**. Time traveling. Dimension traveling. Zombies. Airships. Dragons. A trinity of villains. A trinity of heroes. Loads and Loads of Characters. Straight pairings. Slash pairings. Femslash pairings. Masters and slaves. Sci fi, fantasy, everything in between. A main character who's married and in his thirties. And bisexual. Lots of twists and mind screws and revelations. If any of that interests you, then by all means check out my fictionpress, **Bickazer**. There's a 12-chapter prelude in the works that covers the main character's backstory, but you don't have to necessarily read it to make sense of the story. I can't advertise this enough.

Be sure to leave a review. Hopefully I'll have freaked out less people with this chapter, though for some odd reason I get the feeling that some people thinking that a straight Axel is more offensive than sexual abuse. What a weird, weird, world we live in. For my part, I'm having a ton of fun with this straight!Axel angle and hell, the entire romance angle. We will get on to more sordid things in the next chapter, if that's what you're reading for.


	3. There Will Be No Tenderness

** Marly's Angels**

_Zexion is keeping a secret. Unfortunately, Marluxia and Larxene are aware of it - and use it to manipulate Zexion to serve their own ends._

Rating: M

Pairings: Marluxion, Marxene, LarxZex, AKuZeku, Xehanort/Ienzo

Warnings: Gender bending, ABUSE, discipline/SPANKING, EXPLICIT SCENES, RAPE, master/slave relationships, straight!Marluxia, menages a troi, length, het, femslash, SEXISM UP THE WAZOO. Seriously, if you're easily offended or triggered, do not under any circumstances read this.

I can't believe it! Another chapter, after...how long has it been? Almost a year, imagine that.

I have mostly lost my fire for fanfiction. Sorry, everyone. But this is going up because dammit, it has been too long. I must warn you all that this is by far **the most explicit and graphic chapter yet**. I am not joking. If you thought the first chapter was bad, well...just look up at the warnings for this one, will ya?

Oh, and it's also really long, but I don't think any of you mind that.

Today's song is the marvelously appropriate "Hatefuck" by The Bravery. That name alone sets the tone for the entire chapter, lemme tell ya.

* * *

3. There Will Be No Tenderness

_And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness_

_There will be no tenderness, no tenderness_

_I will show no mercy for you, you have no mercy for me_

_The only thing that I ask, love me mercilessly_

* * *

Larxene had been curled up on her favorite couch in the Lobby, flipping through the pages of a superhero comic when a portal opened a few yards from her. She didn't think much of it - probably Marluxia deciding to take a break from his daily patrol of the castle. Much to her surprise, though, it wasn't Marluxia's tall, broad form that stepped through the oval of darkness.

"_Zexion?" _Larxene squealed in surprise, bolting to an upright position.

"Good...morning, I suppose, XII," Zexion said, striding across the Lobby so that she was standing directly in front of Larxene. Well, more like _he. _This was "nerdy D&D boy," not "that ugly bitch." Flat-chested and skinny and anemic. Larxene even noticed that Zexion lowered her voice an octave when she was in disguise.

"Why the hell are you here?" Larxene said. "You _do _realize that it's, what, eight hours until six?"

Zexion sighed dramatically. "I would have held on until then, but I realized that I missed our dear _Superior _so much I had to come see him early..."

"What the hell," Larxene said, wondering if Zexion had been lobotomized. Or maybe she was just faking it, but Larxene couldn't see any benefit to that. Zexion only did things that ensured her own relative safety and survival - as any Nobody did - but this? This came across as insanity no matter how one sliced it.

"How long are you going to gawk like a goldfish, Larxene?" Zexion said. It must have been the first time Zexion had ever called her by her name, not just "XII."

"Huh? What do you want me to do?" Larxene said. "I don't have to tell you where Marly is if you're looking for him. You can just smell him, can't you?"

"No, I don't want you to tell me where Marluxia is," Zexion said. "Since you're his confidante...of sorts...I was wondering if you knew what his, ahh, 'theme' was for tonight."

"Why do you _care?" _Larxene said.

"Because, if possible, I humbly ask that you fetch me my costume."

"Okay, are you _nuts, _girl? You've never humbly asked me for anything, least of all, well, one of Marly's costumes!"

"I would appreciate it greatly if you did," Zexion said, tilting her head to the side and offering Larxene a coquettish smile, which just about dropped the bottom from Larxene's stomach. "Honestly, I would."

"Oh, fuck you!" Larxene cried. "Will you tell me what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, really," Zexion said, a bit too dramatically to be sincere. "Except I realize now that I've been something of a bad girl, and I would like to repent."

"You_ are _insane," Larxene said with equal parts wonder and horror.

Zexion offered her a smile that seemed all too deranged. "So? Will you help me or not, Larxene? Marluxia will be happy to see us finally cooperating, don't you think?"

"Oh, go to hell!" Larxene yelled, but she turned around and stomped off anyway. Much as she didn't want to admit it, Zexion did seem to have a point. Marluxia was always complaining that Larxene and Zexion fought too often and he'd rather they get along so he wouldn't have to suffer such ferocious migraines every morning. Larxene did feel a little bad for causing Marly migraines, especially since they were her fault (partly - Zexion was the one who always started the fights!) Maybe if Marluxia saw her getting along with Zexion, he'd have cause to be proud of her.

Larxene wasn't fool enough not to see the desperation behind Zexion's every movement, her every word. She _was _play-acting. Pretending to be a good girl because...because of what?

Because clearly she'd done something horrible. Larxene snickered to herself. Plenty of schadenfreude, she suspected, waited right behind the corner.

* * *

Axel had circuited around Castle Oblivion four times already, and he had yet to find Zexion. By now he was starting to wonder if Zexion was even in the Castle. Maybe he'd fled to The World That Never Was...

Or maybe he was in the Penthouse. Marluxia's headquarters - a place Axel wouldn't even dream of popping in uninvited. For one thing, there was the small matter that he _couldn't. _The Penthouse was blocked from the rest of the Castle by some sort of mysterious disturbance, which prevented him from using corridors of darkness to access the top floor. He would start off in the Penthouse's direction, but when he reached the area in which he knew the Penthouse was located, he couldn't get through it. As if he'd bumped into an invisible wall.

Axel supposed the "Superior" had a right to his privacy, but he wondered why Marluxia needed an entire floor. What was he hiding in there - torture chambers?

And now Zexion might be there. Early.

Axel shuddered at that thought. He doubted that even Marluxia could maintain a literary discussion for that long. Which only begged the dreaded question of what Marluxia was doing to Zexion.

Since he couldn't find Zexion, Axel settled for speaking to Zexion's comrades. Lexaeus and Vexen, the ones whose sides he rarely left. Perhaps he viewed them as bodyguards, though Axel thought them rather ineffectual.

Vexen, predictably, started hurling insults the instant Axel peeked inside his frigid lab. Axel ran away laughing, giddy despite himself. It was always fun to set Vexen off. It took a little longer to find Lexaeus. Turned out the big guy was sitting at the kitchen counter, enjoying a mug of offee. Well, Axel couldn't really tell if he was enjoying it, since his expression remained forever stony.

"Yo! Lexaeus!" Axel called as he approached.

"Axel," Lexaeus rumbled. He said nothing more, but Axel wasn't expecting anything more from the _Silent _Hero, of all people.

"Hey, mind if I ask you a few questions?" Axel said, sidling up beside Lexaeus. The strong smell of black coffee made his head spin.

Lexaeus did not reply verbally, though he inclined his head in a gesture Axel supposed might be a nod. Grinning, Axel pulled up a seat beside Lexaeus. Was it his imagination, or did Lexaeus shift to the side?

Damn that big boulder Lexaeus. He was so big, and so slow, that it was hard to tell when he e actually moved versus when he just twitched.

"Sooo...Zexion," Axel said, doing his best to put on an airy, careless front. "I was wondering where he might be."

Lexaeus raised his eyebrows, saying without words, _Why do you care?  
_

Axel remembered why he hated talking with Lexaeus; it was just like talking to a wall, except even less fun because Lexaeus _did _react - he just didn't react in a way Axel could respond to.

"I was just wondering," Axel said.

"Find another member to torment," Lexaeus grunted.

"I'm not tormenting him! We were playing chess," Axel said, rather inanely. He sensed that he losing control over the conversation, something which bothered him more than he would admit. He, who reveled in twisting others' words around and messing with their minds.

Lexaeus said nothing. He took a long, controlled sip from his cofee.

"So, do you know where he is? Maybe helping out Vexen in the lab?"

Lexaeus slowly shook his head.

"So you _don't _know. So he's not with you," Axel said, the gears of his mind turning. Something churned in his stomach: the realization that the worst had happened. Zexion had landed in Marluxia's clutches again, locked in a "literary discussion" that Axel suspected wasn't really a literary discussion.

Lexaeus didn't respond, so Axel went on talking, musing to empty air. "Oh, this is great. But I wonder why Marluxia would want to target _him, _of all people? Zexion can barely fight...but hey, do you think the Superior himself sent Zexion to keep an eye on Marluxia?"

Lexaeus frowned at Axel, though that wasn't much of a change from his usual expression.

"This does not concern you, VIII."

"I'll take that as a yes," Axel said, folding his hands behind his head and putting his feet on the table. Lexaeus' frown definitely deepened.

"Are you concerned for him?" Was it Axel's imagination, or did Lexaeus sound a bit sardonic? Axel scowled and chewed the inside of his cheek.

"Well...maybe a little."

"You?" Lexaeus' blue eyes narrowed. Axel shuffled backwards in his chair, suddenly feeling like a teenager again - Lea again - on the receiving end of his father's lectures.

"Yeah, sure. Listen, I know what you're going to say. Axel, whose only loyalty is to Organization Himself, huh? I sure as hell shouldn't give a damn for someone like Zexion."

"No, you should not," Lexaeus said. Axel got the suspicion that he was coaxing more words out of Lexaeus than Lexaeus cared to say in a month. That thought filled him with glee.

"Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't. Not in normal circumstances, anyway. Usually we just play a game of chess or Stratego and that's it," Axel said with a shrug. "That's been our working relationship. Maybe a mission here and there. But today...I think, I think I got to see another side to him."

The side that had attacked Marluxia. The side that shyly dropped hints about the kind of girl he liked. The side that came across not as an aloof schemer, but an insecure little boy. It was a side of Zexion that Axel had never seen before, and he quite liked it. For the first time, he could see Zexion as...human, almost. Someone beyond just an efficient agent of the Organization. Someone vulnerable, and in need of help.

Strange way to think about anyone. Axel didn't even think of Roxas that way, but the difference was that Roxas didn't need help, and whenever he did, he had no problem asking Axel for it.

"He opened up to me, for the first time," Axel said. "He told me things that I don't think he's ever told anyone before."

"Do not get too close," Lexaeus said, sounding even more gruff than usual. "He will not allow you."

"Yeah, but - "

"This is not a warning, Axel," Lexaeus said, his eyes sliding shut. He looked serene, yet so very pained at the same time. "This is prophecy."

"Prophecy, huh?" Axel said with a bitter smile. He glared at the smooth white surface of the table. White, just the like the rest of Castle Oblivion. How he hated that color. "Too bad, but I don't believe in prophecies. I'll make the future into exactly what I want it to be, got it memorized?"

_Isa! Believe me, buddy, the future is ours. We'll make all our dreams come true, got it memorized? What's going to stop us?  
_

Plenty. Lea had been the biggest idiot to have walked any of the worlds. He had never anticipated losing his heart. Losing his ability to dream.

Losing Isa.

Lexaeus didn't speak. He turned away from Axel and took another long sip from his coffee - implying that he would like Axel to leave. Axel sighed, shrugged, and obeyed. He could already tell that Lexaeus didn't know much about Zexion. It was a strange thought. Weren't Zexion and Lexaeus always hanging out? But they never interacted in any meaningful way, now that Axel thought about it. Usually Zexion gave Lexaeus orders, or else the two of them stood silently together like matching statues. It struck Axel that Lexaeus had all along kept a deliberate distance from Zexion. Perhaps he had tried getting close once but Zexion had not allowed him.

Axel didn't care if Zexion wanted him close or not. Like hell if that little brat knew what was good for him - he'd take his pride over reason any day. Perhaps his pride convinced him that he could handle the constant torment of Marluxia's "literary discussions." Perhaps it prevented him from asking for help, and led him to despise those who tried.

But Axel had resolved to befriend Zexion, and he wasn't going to let a silly thing like the boy's pride stand in his way.

But first, he'd have to find out just what the hell went on during these "literary discussions."

* * *

"Tonight's theme is schoolgirl chic," Larxene said. "Enjoy yourself, Zexy."

She practically threw the uniform at Zexion. Zexion fumbled as she caught it, cursing under her breath because the constricting bandages prevented her from moving quickly. She unfolded the bundle and examined its components, though she already knew what to expect. Tight-fitting, skimpy, and she'd be lucky to get a skirt that reached mid-thigh.

"Schoolgirl chic" indeed. The costume consisted of a blouse that only had two working buttons, so it would reveal plenty of cleavage and stomach, a pleated red plaid skirt that seemed barely long enough to cover her rear, thigh-high white stockings, and pastel pink panties with a little ribbon in the front. It was finished off with a hair ribbon and necktie, both in the same plaid material as the skirt.

Zexion frowned at the various garments spread out on the floor before her, and threw Larxene a glance over her shoulder. It seemed to be...missing something. "Where's the bra?"

"Hmm?" Larxene raised an eyebrow, before a huge shark-like smirk crossed her face. "You really think you need one?"

Zexion bit back her embarrassment. So Marluxia wanted to humiliate her this way. To hell if she'd let him have the last laugh. Tonight, she'd already sworn to be as obedient as possible, to throw him off guard and thus lessen her punishment. The horrid punishment she'd receive for assaulting him...why _had _she done something so insane? So stupid?

But those words that he'd said, so clearly meant to goad..._I believe everything would run so much more smoothly in this castle if we could all behave more respectfully to one another. _Respect! He was one to talk about that. He didn't respect her in the slightest and both of them knew that.

Stupid, though, giving in to her blind instincts. Never in a million years could she overwhelm him in physical combat. Doing that only ensured that he would punish her harder tonight.

Reluctantly, Zexion stripped from the uniform that she had put on only hours before that morning. As the coat slipped from her shoulders, familiarly heavy and warm, her confidence - her mask - slipped away with it. Things became worse when she unwrapped the towel and undid her bandages, letting them fall like white snakes to the floor around her feet. Freed of their bindings, her breasts bounced against her chest, uncomfortably heavy. She shivered, but not from cold and certainly not anticipation. Simply...shame.

Zexion hated nothing more than her own femininity. From the earliest age Ienzo had been brought up to think of it as a sign of shame and failure, and Ienzo's Nobody's experiences had only vindicated that belief. If she was really a man, would she have suffered this much under Marluxia?

But tonight, though, if she wanted to survive, she was going to have to milk her femininity for all it was worth.

"Nice strip show, Zexy," Larxene said, lounging imperiously on the couch. Of course, _she _was in full Organization gear. It wasn't yet evening, which begged the question of why Larxene was in the Penthouse in the first place. "Now get those pants off."

"I don't recall _you _having the authority to order me around," Zexion said frigidly, though she had begun pulling her pants down anyway. Not because of Larxene's order but because, well, she had to. She winced as the leather brushed against the still sensitive, reddened skin where Marluxia had beaten her last night. A potion taken that morning had reduced most of the swelling and bruising, but hadn't eradicated all of the pain. The pain would only become much, much worse...

"Sheesh, didn't you say we were supposed to get along?" Larxene said with a pensive sigh, resting her chin in her hands.

"Then get into your own costume, if you really want to show solidarity," Zexion snapped, pulling up the uniform panties. They were low-cut, but to her relief covered a bit more than the sheer lace number she'd had to wear last night. The skirt went on next - she tried to adjust it so that it covered as much as possible, but she knew she'd end up flashing any observer with every step.

"It's not evening yet," Larxene said as Zexion began buttoning up the blouse. "_I'm _not a masochist like you, Zexy. I'm not about to demand my punishment this early in the morning. For fuck's sake, I haven't even eaten breakfast."

"Lexaeus made coffee if you want any," Zexion said sardonically. The blouse felt uncomfortably tight around the chest and she could perfectly see the round bumps of her nipples through it. She blinked and threw Larxene a glare.

"This is yours."

"Yeah, I know. But Marly had it laid out for you," Larxene said, raising her eyebrows. "Hey, if you rip it I'm gonna kill you, Zexy."

"Go to hell," Zexion snapped, keeping her face turned from Larxene so Larxene wouldn't see her furious blush.

"Can't, already there," Larxene said with an airy sigh.

"No, I think you could stand to go a few circles deeper," Zexion growled.

"Hey, weren't you the one going on about solidarity? You sure aren't showing much of it now, Zexy dear," Larxene said.

"I don't give that which cannot be reciprocated," Zexion said, though without much enthusiasm; she was focusing on pulling on the stockings. "You either show some solidarity first, or I will continue to treat you the way I always have."

"Is that a threat, Zexy?" Larxene purred. "It's a pretty shitty one, you know. You think I give a crap about how you treat me?"

Larxene didn't, and they both knew that Zexion didn't speak because she had nothing to say. She yanked the left stocking as high up as it could go, as if hoping it would compensate for the skirt's shortness, and began tying the necktie. She couldn't knot it up all the way because the blouse was open in the front, which rather distressed her; the few times that Ienzo had worn suits, she had always done up every button and knotted the tie to the collar. Perhaps it was an unconscious way to preserve her masquerade. She knew she could never afford the luxury of wearing her shirt casually open in the front the way that Braig and Dilan did.

A long, full-body mirror leaned in the corner of the Lobby. Like everything in the Penthouse it was ridiuclously overwrought, with a gilt frame shaped like intertwining vines and roses. Zexion stepped in front of it to tie back her hair with the ribbon. She had already lost every other element of her masquerade, but she felt even more vulnerable and exposed without the fringe in her face. It might impede her vision somewhat, but it contributed to her image as someone who operated from behind walls and doors, hidden in the shadows. A schemer. She gazed into the mirror and a shy, blushing schoolgirl, her short hair bound by a bow and her breasts threatening to spill free from her blouse, stared back. Zexion fought the sudden, violent urge to smash the mirror. Only the thought of how Marluxia would retaliate prevented her.

Larxene's lightning-and-ozone scent moved closer and she appeared in the mirror, her hands on her hips and a smirk twisting her face. "You sure look cute, Zexy. You should wear plaid more often, it suits you."

"Shut up," Zexion hissed without thinking.

"Awww, but why?" Larxene pouted. "Come on, Zexy. I've known you for so long and I still don't get to talk to you that often. You're the only girl here besides me. It gets kind of tiresome, you know, being the only girl in a sea of posturing, mouth-breathing guys. You kinda want someone to talk fashion with, don't you agree?"

Larxene was just trying to goad her and Zexion knew that, but she fell for it anyway. "Silence, XII! I have nothing in common with you. I have nothing to discuss with you. If things actually worked the way they are supposed to, I would only speak to you to give you orders!"

"Sheesh, you're no fun, girlfriend." Larxene shook her head. "If you don't wanna talk fashion, why don't we talk about guys? I know you don't like Marly, but there's gotta be some guys out there who you think are dreamy. How about Lexaeus? You're always hanging out with him. Or Axel - "

"That is _enough!" _Zexion shouted before she could stop herself. She was shaking in rage and the instant Larxene had said Axel's name, her face burned. _Axel. _She didn't want to think about him, stupid number VIII. He would not help her, would not, never would... "You will cease this pointless natter this instant!"

"Sheez, just trying to be friends with you. Every girl's got to have a circle of good friends, I say," Larxene said, reclining against the couch.

"I," Zexion hissed, "am _not _a girl."

The instant the words left her mouth she regretted them. They quivered in the air between her and Larxene, unable to disappear, awaiting the inevitable response. A response that Zexion knew she wouldn't like. She stood there, shaking, hating herself more than she had ever hated anyone. More than Larxene, more than Marluxia, even. How could she have let her instincts override her judgment? How many times had Xehanort drilled into her - no, Ienzo - the importance of thinking before acting? Yet she couldn't even live up to that simple standard.

_"Science? What's the point? You would never understand! You see, women are emotional, not logical. They don't have the capacity for rational thought." _Ienzo's father's voice rose from the distant past. Zexion shook her head, wanting to deny it -

Suddenly Larxene's scent was behind her. Zexion blinked, startled, but didn't have time to react before slim, sharp-nailed hands - when had Larxene removed her gloves? - wrapped around her breasts and squeezed. Zexion writhed, but she couldn't fight against Larxene's cold power. The other girl might've been shorter and slighter than her, but she was a trained fighter with wiry muscles, nothing like soft, anemic Zexion.

"Not a girl?" Larxene hissed into Zexion's ear. Her breath was hot and moist and tinged of lightning. It made Zexion's head spin. "What do you call _these, _then?"

Her sharp nails dug into Zexion's nipples. Zexion gasped. "N-no - release me, neophyte - "

"'Cause if you're not a girl and you still have boobs this big," Larxene whispered, "I guess that makes _me _not a girl too!"

"XII, I am warning you - "

Larxene pinched her nipple, cutting off Zexion's words in a sharp gasp. Before a disoriented Zexion could continue speaking - or trying to escape - Larxene's hand ghosted down her chest and stomach and dipped beneath the hem of her skirt - and inside her panties.

"XII! Don't you dare - aughh!" In a single swift motion Larxene tugged her panties down, far enough to expose her shaven pussy. Zexion scratched at Larxene's arm, but Larxene retaliated by snatching her hand and pinning it behind the small of her back. Zexion tried yanking the hand free, but Larxene's grip grew crushingly tight and Zexion knew that if she continued protesting, the Savage Nymph would break her wrist.

"How dare you, how dare you - " Zexion gasped. Larxene had never touched her like this before. The neophyte had beaten her on occasion - even once back when she'd thought Zexion was a boy - but Zexion had never thought to view Larxene as a sexual threat as well. Why should she? From everything she'd gathered, Larxene seemed interested only in men.

But Larxene wasn't doing this to get off, of course. She was doing it to humiliate Zexion.

"If you're not a girl, dear Zexion," Larxene continued, her voice savage with delight, "then what do you call _this?"_

She reached between Zexion's legs and spread open her pussy. Zexion squirmed when she felt Larxene's cold fingers against the delicate flesh. In all her existence, as both Ienzo and Zexion, only one person had ever touched her down there before. Marluxia. She squirmed and tried to fight the sudden stinging in her eyes. This was humiliating; no, _beyond _humiliating. For the stupid neophyte to touch her like that -

Larxene giggled into Zexion's ear. "You like this, huh? You're getting wet."

"N-no, I don't - I - release me, I order you - " Zexion sputtered. But Larxene was right, much as it hurt Zexion to admit it. With every touch, with every stroke and pinch, a little hot cinder jumped in the pit of Zexion's stomach. It was growing intolerably hot down there, and she suddenly, foolishly, found herself longing for - for something more than Larxene's icy touch. Zexion forced down the foolish desire as soon as it rose - just as Larxene's finger slipped inside her.

"No! No, no, _stop!" _Zexion shouted, abandoning any pretense at stoicism. Something akin to panic - not the emotion, but the instincts of a wild animal - seized her. Marluxia had made made it quite clear that he valued her virginity. Every night when she appeared in the penthouse, the first thing he did after he made her undress was spread her legs and look inside to ensure that her hymen was intact. He'd told her that the day the Organization fell to him, he would deflower her in front of Xemnas. _"The ultimate poetic justice, isn't it?" _he'd told her with a smirk.

But now Larxene was touching her there. Not very deep, admittedly, but Zexion could feel the tips of her sharp nails brush against the barrier...she didn't want to imagine how ridiculously easy it would be for Larxene to penetrate it. Just one push...

"Awww, poor widdle virgin Zexy," Larxene snickered. "I bet this is the deepest anyone has gone inside you, am I right? What a shame...how about I change that?"

"You can't, you c-c-can't," Zexion stammered, redoubling her efforts at escaping. Larxene growled and surged forward and suddenly Zexion found herself pressed against the mirror. The glass was shockingly cold against her body and she whimpered when the fire in her stomach flared in response. "N-no, d-don't - Marluxia, he - "

"Awww, what about Marly? What, you wanted _him _to be your first time?" Larxene said with a cackle. She slid another finger inside, making Zexion squirm. "How _romantic, _Zexy!"

"It - it's not that - Larxene, _please _- "

This had to be the ultimate blow to her pride. Begging Larxene so that she could keep her virginity. A sob welled up in her throat but she bit hard on her tongue, not wanting to make a single noise. Not wanting to betray herself even more. Her pride was all she had left. She would never sacrifice it, not even at the lowest point in all of her pathetic half-existence. She squeezed her eyes shut so she didn't have to see her own desperation reflected back at her.

"Ooh, begging me, huh? Yeah, guess I'd better hurry up and fuck you good, huh, Zexy?" Larxene punctuated her words with a bite on Zexion's earlobe. "Oh, geez, you're so damned wet. It's like you're peeing."

"N-no, stop, stop, I'm begging you, _stop_ - "

The scent of darkness. The sound of a portal whooshing. Then the clinging stench of roses. Heavy steps, and then a voice, chilly and laden with disapproval.

"Just _what _is going on here?"

_Marluxia. _Zexion had never thought that she'd be happy to see him, but right now, if she had a heart she thought that she die from joy. Larxene's vice-like grip on her wrist slackened, and her fingers slowly slipped out of her pussy. Zexion was left feeling strangely empty, yet relieved. She slumped against the mirror, her muscles turned to jelly.

For several tense seconds, the only sound in the room was her rapid, shallow breathing, and Marluxia's steps, clicking against the floor, growing ever closer. Larxene stood still as a statue, her expression completely blank. She blinked, however, when Marluxia passed her and instead tapped Zexion lightly on the shoulder.

Zexion swallowed hard. Trembling, half-afraid that he would be angry, she turned around and met his gaze. His expression was pensive, but there was a strange light in his blue eyes - something approaching...kindness? That couldn't be right. He was never kind. He reached out and rubbed the corner of her eye with his thumb, and that was when Zexion realized that tears had been streaming down her face. She swallowed hard, suddenly afraid that she would burst into sobs in front of him.

"It's all right, Zexion," Marluxia said quietly, a gentle caress to his voice. Zexion shivered when his hand moved down to cup her chin. "Tell me - what did she do to you?"

"Oh, come _on, _Marly!" Larxene shouted, her voice overly loud and raucous. "The little bitch is still a virgin, so don't get your panties in a knot. I was just having a little bit of fun!"

"Fun." Marluxia's voice could freeze fires. "Fun, Larxene? Fun, is it, to break the rules that I expressly created?"

Larxene screwed her face up. "I didn't break any rules, okay? Why don't you look for yourself."

"Thank you for the suggestion," Marluxia said. "I think I will. Zexion?"

_No, _Zexion wanted to say. _No, I don't want anyone looking there ever again. _But she couldn't imagine that flying well with him. Already, he was doing her a great favor by actually asking her permission, instead of just forcing her legs open like he usually did. She wondered where this sudden kindness had come from, but then decided to milk it for all it was worth.

She nodded, and Marluxia guided her away from the mirror, his grip on her arms light but powerful. Zexion couldn't think of pulling away, not that she even wanted to. With practiced ease, he pulled her onto his lap so that her bottom was raised in the air. Zexion squirmed, not liking the vulnerability of this position, but she didn't protest aloud even as Marluxia reached between her legs and spread her pussy lips. She shivered when she felt his leather-tipped fingers brush against the sensitive flesh, quite the contrast from Larxene's earlier icy probing.

"Hmm, well, you're off the hook, Larxene," Marluxia said. "Stand, Zexion."

"See?" Larxene said triumphantly. "I didn't do a damned thing wrong!"

"No, actually, you did," Marluxia said. His voice lowered, became dangerous. "It doesn't matter if you didn't actually carry through on your intent - the fact of the matter is that you _acted _at all. I am most disappointed in you. Now, sit down and don't say a single word."

"Well, geez, you're no fun," Larxene pouted, but she flounced off to the couch anyway and flopped upon it, flipping open her comic book like nothing had happened - although Zexion suspected Larxene was making nasty faces at her from behind the covers. Exactly the silly sort of thing XII would do.

"Zexion, I said you could stand," Marluxia said. "Unless this is an invitation...?"

Heat bloomed in Zexion's face. She'd been so dazed with relief upon Marluxia's pronouncement that she hadn't realized she was still sprawled on his lap, her legs spread wide open so he could see everything. Swallowing hard, she crawled off his lap, readjusted her panties, and squeezed her legs together. Standing was out of the question - she was shaking too hard - so she settled for kneeling on the floor.

"Don't worry." The rose stench drifted closer and a heavy hand rested on her back. She twitched. "Even if you were offering, I would not have accepted. You understand when I will claim you."

_Yes, and that day will never happen. _She would never say that aloud, of course. If she'd learned anything from today's events - aside from the fact that Larxene was a sadist and Marluxia a creep (which weren't new facts, anyway) - it was that she would have to act with greater prudence in the future. Never let the heat of the moment control her, as it had that morning and just a few minutes ago with Larxene.

That morning. A violent shudder ran down Zexion's spine. Of course. How could she have forgotten? That was the very reason she had ended up here in the first place, dressed up like a schoolgirl and waiting in the Penthouse hours before evening...

Hours? That wasn't right. Larxene's little assault, horrifying as it might have been, certainly had not lasted hours. Then why was Marluxia back so early...?

"M-Marluxia," she stammered, looking up at the Graceful Assassin, who had stood. He wasn't looking at her, but had his arms folded and was gazing pensively at the wall. Dressed in Organization black, standing straight-backed and proud, he bore little resemble to the bathrobe-clad man who lounged so indolently in the Penthouse. "Wh-what are you...what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Marluxia said, turning around to face her. Looking down on her, he appeared even more imposing. A statue viewed from heroic perspective, implacable, unknowable.

So much like the way Ienzo had always viewed Xehanort, looking up from below while he looked down from above...

Zexion swallowed hard. No - she couldn't lose herself in memories of the past. Not now. "I - I wanted - I merely wished to accept my punishment. Earlier as opposed to later."

She realized that what she'd said probably hadn't made much sense. Damn it, where had her skill with words gone? But before she could elaborate, Marluxia spoke, still in that calm, faintly amused tone.

"Trying to appease me, dear Zexion?"

"I - " But she couldn't say anything, because he had spoken true.

"I don't mind." Marluxia laughed. "A fine gesture, I must say - you are only growing more and more obedient, my dear - but understand that it will not lessen your upcoming punishment."

"I understand."

"You understand...?"

Zexion chanced a glance at him; he was looking upon her expectantly, an eyebrow raised. A visceral shudder ran through her, but - _but give him what he wants, be obedient _- and she batted away the last tatters of her pride and mumbled, "I understand, Superior. You are wise."

Larxene giggled. Marluxia must have thrown her a warning glare because her giggle cut off abruptly, but the damage had been done. Zexion knew she could never look XII in the face again after this - not after XII had finally witnesed the depths to which Zexion would sink.

_So be it, _Zexion thought bitterly. _As long as I turn out alive and relatively unharmed in the end, I do not care how many humiliations I have to go through. This is the price I pay for survival._

"I'm glad you've learned your lesson, Zexion," Marluxia said, though his smile seemed more than a little insincere. "Now, let us hammer that lesson home, shall we?"

He gestured down the hall. Zexion clenched her teeth, forcing feeling back into her legs, and stood. And followed him.

* * *

The room Marluxia had chosen was small and plainly furnished; with its cream-painted walls, bouncy waterbed, and warm chestnut writing desk, it looked almost inviting. Only 'almost,' because it was after all a room in the Penthouse, but Zexion had to admit that if she owned a house, she would furnish it in a similar fashion.

Such idle thoughts were driven from her mind when Marluxia gestured lazily towards the bed. Zexion understood what he wanted, and forcing down her reluctance, she crossed the room and sank on her knees on the bed. She linked her fingers in her lap, staring down at them instead of Marluxia. Nonetheless, she couldn't stop smelling or hearing him. He had moved towards the closet, and, from the sound of a jingling zipper and shifting leather, he had begun undressing. When he was in the Penthouse, the Lord of Castle Oblivion rarely stayed in his uniform; he instead maintained a vast selection of casual robes and dressing gowns. Few Nobodies segregated between their 'working' and 'personal' lives - after all, there really wasn't a difference - but Marluxia did so with an almost religious vigor. To him, the Penthouse was his home, the rest of Oblivion a place he merely tolerated to appease the Superior.

But usually Marluxia came to the Penthouse during the nights, after finishing a long day's work patrolling Castle Oblivion. Right now it wasn't even eleven in the morning. Zexion longed to ask him why he'd returned so early, but sensed that he would not want questions now.

Much to her surprise, when Marluxia returned to the bed, he wasn't wearing a robe - he had just removed his coat and gloves. Zexion had seen him naked and shirtless on multiple occasions, but she couldn't help the half-queasy, half-pleasant feeling that seized her stomach when her eyes fell upon his lean yet sculpted torso. Dammit, she did _not _find him attractive! She would have a much easier time hating him if he were fat and pasty. Then again, she was the Cloaked Schemer, one whose very existence relied on lies - she should know better than to judge a book by its cover.

"My dear Zexion," Marluxia said, sinking on the bed beside her; Zexion wrinkled her nose when his rose stench wafted her way. "I suppose since I'm here and you're here, we ought to get your punishment over with."

"Y-yes, sir," she managed. Then, despite herself, the question burst forth: "Lord Marluxia, if you don't mind my asking, why are you here so early?"

"Hmm?" Marluxia cocked an eyebrow - but thankfully, he didn't look offended. "Well, if you must know, it's all because of that despicable number VIII."

"Axel?" Despite herself, a slight shudder ran down Zexion's spine - she remembered too well how Axel, too, had insulted and defied Marluxia. That idiot...

"He ran into me and was very rude and nosy," Marluxia sniffed. "Interrupted me while I was in the middle of maintaining my gardens, you see. He kept pelting me with question after question, very incoherently. At first I thought he was talking about _literature, _of all things. He seems to be under the impression that I run a book club." Marluxia laughed, a light, clear sound that raised the hairs on the back of Zexion's neck.

_Book club... _Well, of course. Zexion had told Axel that she and Marluxia engaged in literary discussions. Oh, if only they did. Marluxia probably didn't think a woman would have the brainpower to discuss literature, Zexion thought sourly Not that she wanted to discuss literature with him anyway.

"Eventually, I came to realize that he wished to obtain access to the Penthouse." Marluxia shook his head. "That fool is too nosy for his own good. Naturally, I rebuffed him, and to keep him from pestering me further, I portalled back here. I couldnt have chosen a luckier time." His lips curved up into a haughty smile - not that Marluxia ever smiled un-haughtily. "So I suppose you have Axel to thank for preserving your virginity."

"I see," Zexion said. Something had tightened in her stomach - not an emotion, of course. But still. Axel, that idiot. After she'd explicitly warned him not to interfere...then again, Axel had never been the type to do what other people told him. Part of what made him so troublesome.

"I'll have to return to my duties soon," Marluxia said, "and you ought to as well. It will look suspicious if we spend all day in the Penthouse."

"So..." Zexion swallowed. "You are going to punish me right now."

"Of course," Marluxia said smoothly. "Come, over my lap."

"Ex-excuse me?" Zexion stammered, wondering if she had misheard.

"Over my lap," Marluxia said again, though with some level of impatience. "Do not try my patience, Zexion."

"Yes, sir," Zexion said without feeling. She had a nasty suspicion of what he wanted to do, but there was no use protesting, was there? It was going to happen whether she wanted it or not. She shuffled across the bed until she was right next to him (it took great effort not to breathe through her nose) and lowered herself reluctantly onto his lap, into the same position she had taken only minutes earlier.

At least this time she was a little less exposed, with the skirt covering her rear and panties still on. Not that Marluxia would allow that situation to last. He lifted the hem of the skirt, rolling it up and tucking it into the waistband, and seconds later tugged her panties down to her knees. She squirmed, instinctively trying to pull away, but he wrapped an arm tightly around her waist, locking her in place.

This position was highly uncomfortable, and more than a little embarrassing. Her rear was raised in his lap, her breasts pressed against the mattress; her hair had spilled free from the bow, blocking her eye again. One small blessing...and not enough. A shiver ran down her spine when Marluxia began stroking her bare skin, from the small of her back down to the middle of her thighs. Pain tingled anew in the mostly healed bruises and weals from yesterday; she realized with a shudder that Marluxia was tracing the patterns of the still-visible belt lashes.

"M-Marluxia," Zexion stammered.

"Marluxia...?" There was a warning in his voice.

"Superior," Zexion amended, resisting the urge to spit the name out.

"Excellent. Remind me why you are being punished."

"B-because I, I physically attacked you. Superior," she quickly added, sensing his increasingly stormy mood.

"Yes. Do good girls attack their lords and Superiors?"

"No, Superior," Zexion hissed. His fingers were wandering dangerously close to her inner thighs, but she couldn't even think to shake them off. A tiny, disgruntled part of her wondered why he wanted to touch her there in the first place; hadn't he gotten a good enough feel earlier? Why was he groping her anyway? He might as well just punish her and get it over with sooner rather than later.

Of course, he was doing all this to build tension, to make Zexion dread and anticipate the coming punishment even more. The worst thing was that it worked.

"I'm glad you've realized that," Marluxia said. "Of course, only a proper punishment will drill the lesson into that thick skull of yours."

_Thick skull... _He really knew how to hit where it hurt. Any facetious thoughts were driven out of her mind, however, when his hand came whistling down and cracked across her left buttock.

She tensed, gasping, but didn't have time to draw in a full breath before his hand came down again, on the opposite cheek. And again, and again and again. His strength and stamina was phenomenal - he kept up a merciless tattoo of blows without pause and without flagging in strength. If anything, each strike was harder than the last. Soon all the old bruises stung and burned again, and new agony blossomed every time his hand impacted her skin. Marluxia didn't need a belt or whip to hurt; just his bare hands were enough. By the time he'd completed a full circuit from the crown of her bottom to her upper thighs, she had given up any pretense at stoically bearing the punishment. She writhed, gasped, kicked, squirmed, groaned, did anything to try to shake him off, but the arm around her waist was like an iron clamp and when she tried to move her hands down there to block his blows, he expertly trapped them under that arm, so they were pinned, quite uncomfortably, to the small of her back.

It was no mercy at all when Marluxia spanked her with just his hand - if anything, Zexion hated it even more than when he used the belt or another implement. At least during those punishments she got to bend over a couch, and there was always a slight - very slight, but still existent - sense of dignity in receiving the belt. She could think of it as a 'beating,'but this - on Marluxia's lap, dressed like a schoolgirl, his bare hand smacking against her bottom - could be nothing but a spanking. A spanking like a little girl got from her father.

Worse, in this position, she could feel his hard-on pressed uncomfortably against her thigh...

He completed a second circuit around her rear, finishing with a rapid series of sharp blows to the meatiest part of her body, where her buttocks met her thighs. The flesh jiggled under Marluxia's palm; a furious heat rose in her face.

"Nghhh Marluxia please stop it hurts," she was babbling. "Please please _please _I'm sorry I've learned my lesson - "

"I'm sure you have," Marluxia said in a tone of utmost irony, punctuating his words with a smack to her thigh. "But if you really have learned, you would not have attacked me in the first place."

"P-please I c-can't control - "

Too late, Zexion swallowed down the rest of that sentence. She froze, stiffening in horror - bad idea, since her increased tension made his next blows hurt more. And then he stopped. Zexion knew she ought to be relieved, even as fresh pain seared down her lower body, but she also knew that Marluxia had not intended on ending the punishment that early. She squirmed in his lap, terrified and uncertain. Damn her and her big mouth; it had gotten her into trouble in the first place, though in that case she could blame Axel for instigating the incident.

"You can't control yourself, can you?" Marluxia said. "Interesting. Of course. What is a Nobody without any self control?"

Zexion knew the answer; every member of the Organization did. Xemnas reminded them of it every chance he could get. _A Dusk. _

Zexion didn't speak; she had nothing to say in her defense. "It is very hard to control oneself, isn't it?" Marluxia continued. "So very, _very _hard...when you want so badly to give in to your basest instincts, when you think nothing could be worth holding back and watching yourself, when you just _want _something with all your soul..."

He words brushed over the back of her neck, soft as a silk curtain. He brought his hand to her bottom again, but not to hit; instead, he rubbed circles into the soft flesh, numbing the burning slightly. It was almost gentle, but Zexion had long learned not to accept gentleness from Marluxia - or at least, not to accept it without first learning his ulterior motives. Her breathing came in rapid, shallow gasps. Something terrible was coming but she had no idea what...

Marluxia removed his arm from her back, releasing her hands as he did so - Zexion had no time to register the change before he pushed her off his lap altogether. Winded and confused, she lay flat on the mattress. But then, before she could regain her bearings, Marluxia gripped her thighs and spread her legs wide open.

"Ahh - n-no - "

"Shush," Marluxia said. His tone was commanding, not comforting. "To want something so badly...it burns me, do you know, Zexion? It practically tears me apart. Every day I see you naked and vulnerable and _I cannot do the one thing I wish to do above all." _His finger roughly prodded her pussy, making her gasp. "Do you know how often I dream of it? The moment I pin you down and put myself inside you and make you mine entirely? I dream of it. I dream of flooding your insides with my essence. Filling your _womb. _I want you to be mine, Zexion."

His voice was low, silky - dangerous. A predator surveying its prey. The finger in her pussy twisted, then pushed; Zexion suppressed a groan. "But alas, I cannot. Because of the limitations that I have set for myself. Every time I look at you, I fight a powerful battle inside my mind. Oh, how easy it would be to climb on top of you" - the finger pushed - "and _take _you. You would not be able to fight back. It would be so easy...but it would mean that I have lost. My intellect will have lost against my instincts."

He traced her pussy lips before removing his finger, and sat down on the bed beside her. Zexion couldn't think to move. She drew her legs together, but she didn't remove herself from the bed. Could only lie there with her cheek pressed against the mattress, staring in wonder and fear at the Graceful Assassin. The Graceful Assassin, his hands clasped over his knee and his gaze distant and pensive. He had never looked so regal before, so mysterious. So...alluring.

Heat flared between her legs, and on her face at the same time. Damn her, thinking about such things even now...

"You are the Cloaked Schemer, Zexion. The Superior's third in command. I think you should understand what I am saying."

"Yes," Zexion said, very slowly. "I do."

He turned towards her, smiling. "So, remember, my dear. It's only my self control that keeps me from ravaging you this instant. Perhaps you ought to cultivate some yourself."

_Don't you dare lecture me, _Zexion thought, but what stung the most was that he was _right. _He had said nothing that she - or at least, her higher intellect - did not already know. So why did she always give in to her visceral urges? Attacking Marluxia, for instance. That had been satisfying for a few too-short seconds, but had been, from a logical standpoint, a terrible decision.

"Of course, it is harder for me," sighed Marluxia, looking pensive again. "For you, it's just a matter of learning to be more courteous and thoughtful, isn't it?" (No, it wasn't) "But for me...you see, I am a man, and you are a woman. As such, it's only natural that my first, deepest instinct is to desire your body. And sometimes...men cannot control that instinct. When that happens, the man is often branded with the label 'rapist' by an unsympathetic society - "

"Are you saying," Zexion cut in bitingly, "that taking a woman against her will does _not _constitute rape?"

His gaze flickered towards her, sharp but mercifully free of anger. If anything, he looked intrigued. Zexion didn't know what to do with this new side of Marluxia, so she waited for him to speak. The first thing a schemer did: watch and wait.

"It does not," Marluxia said, "if the woman belongs to him."

"Even if she doesn't express consent?"

"Are you talking about you? But the fact that you belong to me is consent enough, isn't it?" His hand flickered towards her face, brushing stray strands of hair out of her eyes; it felt kind of nice, especially after the hard spanking earlier, though she would never admit it. "Anyhow, this is pointless, because I already promised not to use you that way until - "

"Until Xemnas falls, yes. But - but I didn't consent to belong to you - "

"But you do, and that is your reality," Marluxia said in a tone of flat finality. "Of course, it's different if I take another man's woman. I would call that rape. After all, I would be defiling his property without his permission."

Zexion sighed and turned away from him, though he continued stroking her hair. It was no use; he and her came from completely different backgrounds. How could she debate with him? He didn't even take her seriously in the first place. She wondered why he'd decided to talk about this with her; normally he didn't even like having discussions. He just said things and waited for his girls to agree.

"Zexion, get up on your knees on the bed, but keep your face down."

"Ex - excuse me?" Zexion had been so caught up in her thoughts that Marluxia's next order took her by complete surprise. She stared up at him, confused; he offered her an unpleasant little smile before smacking her, not hard but not gently either, on the thigh. Pain flared anew across the delicate skin, making her squirm.

Zexion was already sick of spreading her legs and letting others have their way with her most private parts, but she could see no way out of this situation, so she hastened to obey. Before she moved, though, Marluxia put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Oh, and kindly remove your blouse as well, dear."

"V-very well," Zexion said. She knew full well what was coming next - what had been coming ever since Marluxia had started blathering about his desire to rape her, come to think of it. She undid the buttons and, despite herself, breathed in relief when her breasts bounced free from the constricting material. Marluxia sidled over and pulled her skirt and panties down and completely off, leaving her naked except her stockings. Somehow, she found the situation a bit more acceptable than the previous one, where she'd been dressed like a schoolgirl and bent over Marluxia's lap. At least she wasn't wearing a ridiculous costume anymore.

"Beautiful," Marluxia murmured, sweeping his eyes over her with naked greed. "Such a lovely body...it's amazing you haven't yet lost your virginity. Can you blame a man if he wishes to use you?"

"Yes, because it's _his _prerogrative to maintain his self control, not mine," Zexion snapped. Marluxia laughed and stroked the side of her face - before his hand moved down to cup her breast. Zexion stiffened automatically, trying not to react as he squeezed and stroked the smooth sphere. Soon his free hand rose and began groping her other breast; she turned away from him, breathing fast, not wanting him to see the blush coloring her face.

He pinched her nipples - little cinders flared in her stomach - before removing her hands and patting the bed beside him. Zexion sighed, understanding what he desired, and pressed her face against the mattress and pulled herself up to her knees so her bottom was raised in the air. She heard a zipper opening, and then Marluxia approached from behind. His hands rested on her ass cheeks, gently squeezing the still-tender flesh; Zexion hissed.

She heard the clicking of a jar opening and then the clinical scent of lube filled the air. Seconds later something cool and slick and thoroughly uncomfortable pressed against her asshole - Marluxia's lubed fingers. A brief protest flickered through Zexion's mind, but it was gone as soon as it had arrived. Marluxia's fingers slipped inside, past the ring of muscle and into the tight inner passage. Zexion ground her back teeth together, determined not to show any pain. Still, she'd be lying if she said it didn't hurt. It'd been a while since Marluxia had done this to her...

"My, you're rather tight," Marluxia said. He wriggled his fingers; Zexion felt every motion, felt his nails digging into her tender inner walls. She wanted to tell him to stop, but logically knew that what was coming would be much bigger; if she hoped to survive it, she would have to let him stretch her as wide as he could. Nonetheless, that didn't stop her from hissing when he began scissoring his fingers, pushing her walls uncomfortably out and apart and coating every inch with lube.

Then he pulled his fingers out, one by one, stroking the rim of Zexion's now marginally wider entrance as he withdrew. Zexion pressed her face against the mattress, feeling strangely empty - but not for long.

Marluxia's hands clamped down hard on her buttocks, reigniting the fire from the spanking, and something hard and throbbing and wet pressed against her open asshole. She tensed. _No, no, no - don't do this - _

"Shh, relax," Marluxia said, his voice deceptively gentle - but Zexion knew not to expect true gentleness from him. "If you tense, it will only hurt more."

"I - I know, but - " Zexion's voice came out a ragged whisper.

"Dear Zexion," Marluxia murmured, "do you wish for me to do this?"

Zexion froze. Was she hallucinating, or had he...had just asked for her consent? He never did. Whether it came to raping her or beating her or making her service him. He just assumed he had every right to order her about, because she belonged to him. She hadn't even thought he knew what consent meant.

No, he didn't mean it. He was trying to manipulate her, but for whatever end she didn't know. Something to do with their earlier conversation, she suspected - perhaps to punish her for her supposed impudence? Interesting that he would choose a psychological approach when he was really was a man who preferred physical action. He had asked her a question, a fairly simple one; but the answer, Zexion suspected, would determine whether the coming fuck would hurt - or be excruciating.

Which was the right answer? It could go either way, knowing him...

"I'm waiting," Marluxia said, infusing his voice with a hint of impatience.

Zexion decided _To hell with it, _and stated the truth in as steady a voice as she could manage. "No. I do not."

The words hung in the air for a fraction of a second. Then Marluxia's hands sunk down, claw-like, into the soft flesh of her bottom - she hissed - and before she knew what was happening he had thrust deep inside.

"That's too bad," he hissed. "It doesn't matter whether you want it or not. Do you understand? No matter what, I have the power to do whatever I like to you."

"Y-yes sir!" Zexion gasped without thinking - she couldn't think at all through the blinding pain. He'd stretched her but that wasn't enough, not when his massive cock was forcing her insides wider open than she could bear. And he still pushed deeper in, pushing and pushing and not caring how much he strained her already stretched-to-the-limit muscles...

"Ahh, M-M-Marluxia," Zexion blubbered without thinking. Tears choked her throat, burned behind her eyes - she writhed and squirmed and tried to pull away from Marluxia but there was no escape. Her world was pain, pain upon pain upon pain. The burn of his fingers digging into her injured skin. The stinging of the tears at the corners of her eyes. And the agony of that horrid hard mass inside her, pushing insistently, thrusting too fast a rhythm. "M-Marluxia _please _- "

"_Superior," _Marluxia growled.

"S-S-S-Superior - please - _stop, _I'm begging you - "

"What happened to the calm, logical Cloaked Schemer?" Marluxia's voice was a vindictive growl. "Well, I suppose _he _never existed."

Zexion screamed aloud as he seized her hips and yanked her up backwards, so that she was now sitting in his lap. In this new position, gravity pushed her down on his cock, so that she unwillingly took even more of it inside, all the way up to his balls. She thought she would tear apart. She threw her head back, crying out, and Marluxia took the opportunity to bite, hard, on her exposed throat.

"H-help - help me - _Xehanort please save me - "_

It was excruciating, his balls slamming against her sore buttocks and that awful _thing _inside - nothing had ever hurt so much -

He clamped her hard as he came, flooding her insides with hot cum. It burned like lye against her torn, sore flesh. Somehow, she suspected that not all of the liquid that came dribbling out down her thighs was cum.

"Dead men can't save you, Zexion," Marluxia breathed in her ear. His rose scent flooded her in a disorienting haze. "No one can. You brought this upon yourself."

He thrust twice more to ride out his orgasm - liquid squelched as he moved - and then, dispassionately, pulled his rapidly deflating cock out. He released her as he did so, and she collapsed bonelessly against the bed.

"Zexion," he said as he zipped up his pants. "I have a question for you, if you don't mind."

Zexion couldn't have replied even if she wanted to; her throat was still tight and sore from screaming and her chest heaved with deep, ragged breaths. It didn't matter, since Marluxia continued as if he hadn't expected an answer.

"Tell me this, Zexion: did I just rape you?"

Zexion's first instinct was to answer yes - who the hell would dispute that! She'd even said _no! _- but thankfully logic kicked in before instinct. Swallowing down her revulsion, she whispered, "N-no."

"And why is that?" Marluxia's tone was perfectly pleasant, as if he were discussing the weather. He was now occupied with sliding back into his coat.

"B-because," Zexion managed to force out, "I...I b-belong to y-you. And b-because I be...belong to you...c-consent is...implicit."

Marluxia laughed, a low, delighted sound that raised the hairs on the back of Zexion's neck. "Excellent. You're learning. You always learn. Not quickly enough, unfortunately, but nonetheless, you do. This is a good sign, Zexion. It means that one day - however long it will take to get there - you _will _be a good girl. An excellent servant, an excellent companion.

"Oh, and one more thing?" as he paused in front of the door, now fully dressed again and looking as proud and unruffled as if nothing had happened. "Do not invoke the names of ghosts. It's bad luck."

His coat swirled around him as he turned, and the door clicked softly shut. Zexion was left alone in the room, sprawled in a helpless heap on the bed and shaking from furious sobs. Everything - everything below her waist was a mass of pain. She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about anything.

_Weak, you are weak, _a voice whispered in her ears, and too her horror, she could not tell if it was hers, Marluxia's...or Xehanort's.

* * *

Yeah...that was something, all right. If you feel up to it, send a review my way. Even if it's to rant at me for being a horrible person.

If I continue this (and there is no guarantee I will; these chapters take a lot out of me), rest assured that Zexion will (finally) be showing some badassery soon. And the AkuZeku thread will finally begin to move.

Umm...hope you enjoyed? *scurries away*


End file.
